Through His Eyes
by Define X
Summary: VTD: Abigail, a girl trying to survive during WWII, is about to be torn from everything she has ever known. And suddenly, she is – but not in the way she expects. Now in Narnia, she is confronted by things she had learned to ignore, including her heart...
1. The World in the Vase

**Hello! This is my first story, and I hope you'll bear with me. This particular story is movie-verse. I'll be updating weekly, or, at least, I'm planning on it. ;) As I'm sure you know, reviews are gold, so I'd love to get a few – love it, hate it, you have suggestions; I just want to know. That, and reviews are very encouraging. I nearly cried the first time one appeared. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Chronicles of Narnia**__; _**the books belong to C.S. Lewis, and the movies to Walden Media and Disney. Caspian too… *****sigh* Can I claim Ben Barnes?**

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><p>Entering: one Abigail. Abigail was a girl by the age of seventeen living in England during WWII. She was taller than most, but significantly shorter than six feet. Her light brown hair fell beneath her shoulders and was wavy, curling more when the air was wet. She might have been respected by her peers, but she had none; along with being orphaned, she kept to herself and remained between aloof and shy. She wasn't boring or overly serious – quite the contrary; she loved to laugh, and carried a good humor. She felt she cried too easily, but no one was around to see her tears anyway. It's just the way her life seemed to have played out that caused a lack of close friends. That, and the fact she was blind.<p>

Abigail had been orphaned at the age of eight. After the accident that had killed her parents and damaged her eyes, she wandered about in the countryside with failing eyesight and excruciating pain. She was kept alive only by a woman who, though she wasn't compassionate, felt pity for the forlorn little girl.

The woman was Mrs. Evelyn Desmonds. She was a widow of thirty-odd years, and was getting along just fine, thank you. She had been blessed with inheriting her late husband's estate, and had lived a generous life since. Perhaps other people called her reclusive, but she was fine with that; she didn't like _them_ either. She had never been able to abide children, but for some reason she hadn't been able to turn away the little waif that had crawled, shivering, to her doorstep. Despite the girl's rather incoherent state, Mrs. Desmonds had been able to glean her name and the fact that she had no family.

She had called for the doctor, who, after attempting to treat the girl several times, affirmed Abigail would never regain her eyesight again. Mrs. Desmonds' pity was swiftly turning to distain, but still she could not bring herself to send the child away. Instead, she allowed her to live in her home. She kept her clean, well educated, and off the streets.

As Abigail aged to her teens, Mr. Desmonds began to ignore her; combined with the tightening grip of old age, she had never had much interest in the girl anyway. All the better that she could now take care of herself – she would need too, seeing as Mrs. Desmonds never was going to harbor her past her eighteenth birthday.

xxxxx

Abigail had been living in the country with the elderly woman for almost ten years, and now she would be thrown to the streets, no better off than when she was eight. Well, that wasn't entirely true; there were places she could go, places that were meant to take care of people in times like these. Abigail just couldn't imagine leaving. This was the only place she had ever known, and she was not an outgoing person. She had already been forced to go to a stranger for help before; would she have to go through it all over again?

She had always know in the back of her mind that she wouldn't ever live in this place forever, but it hadn't sunk in until now… now that her eighteenth birthday was just around the corner. Some days she vainly hoped that Mrs. Desmonds would change her mind, or, in times of desperation, that she would forget about Abigail all together. After all, in the ten years Abigail had lived with her, she had only conversed with the woman a handful of times. But these little bouts of wistfulness only last a moment before reality slaps her in the face again.

And now…she turned eighteen tomorrow. She couldn't avoid it any longer. Well, almost – she was hiding from the world in a little room she liked to think of as her own. It held a couch with one large painting hanging above it, and a sculpture or two. Not that the art meant much to her – for obvious reasons – but it was always empty, and the quiet was welcome.

Today she was stationed there, curled up on the couch with her head resting on her arm. Her finger traced the pattern on the armrest for the sake of having something to do. Her mind was pleasantly blank as she tried to shut out the cruel world.

She shifted, lazily letting her hand flop over the arm of the couch. _Ow!_ She smacked into a flower vase, sending it teetering over the edge of its stand. She clenched her hands, waiting for the heavy glass to shatter. It didn't. Frowning, she slid to her knees, feeling for the vase. Her fingers found petals littered on soaked carpet, and she followed the trail of water to the lip of the vase. _Oh, it's going to be great explaining __**this**__. _

Water still trickled out, and she stood it up quickly to avoid further damage to the carpet. The trickling noise didn't stop; if anything, it had grown louder. This _was _the only thing she had knocked over, right? She picked the vase up and stood, immediately fumbling with her grip on the slippery glass. Water ran over her hands even as she held the vase upright. _What the…_It was as if the water was climbing the insides of the glass. _What is going on?_ A fresh spurt of wetness bubbled over her fingers.

Aghast, she let the vase slip through her fingers, propelling her arms back in slow motion. Now, as the glass collided with the floor, it shattered into a million pieces. Abigail jumped back, sliding on the thin film of water that was gathering. _How much water does this thing hold, anyway? _Water now burbled violently, splashing around her ankles.

She stumbled to the door, water sloshing even higher. She felt franticly around the doorframe, pinpointing where the knob was. She grabbed for it, hoping to escape the bizarre danger she could feel rising around her ankles. Instead of the polished brass she expected to feel, her hand plunged through and if she'd dipped it into a basin of cold water. She shrieked and yanked her hand back, releasing with it a flood. The needle spray slapped her in the face. She spluttered and backed up, only to lose her footing and fall to her knees in the rising torrent.

The other objects in the room were beginning to get tossed about. As she struggled to stand, the back of her hand smacked painfully into the corner of what she assumed to be a pedestal. She gasped and drew her hand to her chest, squeezing it with the other. A sharp pain seared through her cold, wet skin.

She suddenly choked on the water that rolled into her open mouth. It was salty... she barely had time to process this before another wave caught her in the face. She unclasped her hands and quickly used them for balance, choosing to ignore the sting of the saltwater on her injured hand. _What is going on?_ The thought repeated over and over, splintering any shred of calm she attempted to hold onto.

Suddenly, she was thrown violently forward, pitching into the deepening water. Her feet left the floor. Realizing that she would probably hit the ceiling sometime soon, she heaved one last breath, then slid under. Once her head succumbed, she could no longer hear the violent thrashing of the waves, and the water surrounding her seemed relatively calm. _That's it. I must __be dreaming. I'll close my eyes, sink, and then wake up._ She pushed down the rising fear and closed her eyes, the water tingling against her lashes. She waited a heartbeat, and then a tickling sensation started in her lungs. _I can't breathe. I. Can't. __**Breathe**__._ She let gravity kick in to tell her where the surface was. The second she began to rise, she started thrusting herself in that direction, fueled by fiery lack of air. She couldn't technically swim, but when one is underwater and drowning is a very real possibility, instinct can be very efficient.

She pulled herself closer, but with each stroke grew weaker. It occurred to her that the water was much deeper than the room should have been. With one desperate stretch, her fingertips brushed air, but she couldn't bring enough strength to her limbs to go any farther. Just when she was all too happy to give up, a strong hand grasped her own, and she felt herself being pulled rapidly upwards. Her head broke the surface and she drew in staggered breaths.

She could tell instantly that she wasn't in the tiny little room anymore – the space around her was endless. She heard many other voices, some coming from above, others in the water with her. The most predominant was the voice of a young man who sounded not much older than she. "I've got you." Those words were the most reassuring Abigail had ever heard. The same strong hands that had pulled her up were now guiding her towards a looming object to her right. She could sense its massive form as she was pulled under its shadow.

Suddenly her rescuer disappeared above her. She was just about to panic when she was pulled up beside him onto a skinny platform. "Hold on" was her only warning before it started moving upwards. It started to rise with jerky motions, and Abigail was sure she would've fallen right back off if it hadn't been for the firm hold he held around her waist. Just to be safe, she clutched the ropes for dear life.

The platform stopped some feet up in the air, and she found herself lifted to a hard wooden surface. _I want those ropes back…_She felt very unstable with her hands hanging by her sides. A heavy blanket was held out to her, and she wrapped it around her shoulders shyly. It was something to hold onto – granted, it wasn't attached to anything, but it was still something very real that she could grasp. Right now, when she wasn't at all sure she was sane, something to hold with her own two hands was very comforting. "Are you all right?" the same voice asked her.

She managed a small nod. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that emerged was a squeak. Two others that had been in the water were now being pulled up. A girl – she'd been called 'Lucy' by her rescuer – looked surprised but enthralled, as did the dark-haired boy. They looked as if they were related. The one who had accompanied her had walked over and greeted them in a way that made Abigail sure that they had met before. He turned back towards Abigail. "And…who's this?" He glanced behind him at Lucy and the other boy.

Lucy cocked her head and said, as if it were just dawning on her, "I don't know." Curiosity laced her voice, not hostility. "Who_ are _you?"

Abigail's hands flitted by her side, and she waited for her breathing to return before she answered. "I, I'm sorry – where_ am_ I?" She was aware of the fact that they had asked who she was, but for now she was too baffled to actually give an answer for anything. The boy with the dark hair spoke up as if she might be slight dumb.

"You're in Narnia." _Well, that clears it all up. Thanks a lot._ "No, I mean it – where am I?" She motioned one hand around her.

He emitted a sound that sounded a little like a laugh. "What, can't you see – "

"Actually, I can't. _Will someone tell me where I am?_" She could hear her tone growing irritated and higher pitched, but she didn't care.

She heard a collective yet subtle gasp as people around her began to realize what she meant. Lucy timidly spoke up, "You – you're _blind_?" Abigail rubbed her palm to her face. It was the same reaction, every time and without fail.

"Yes." That one syllable could've cut glass, though it came out mumbled through her hand. She now could feel a slight swaying motion under her feet. "Am I on a ship?" She, now more than ever, was starting to hate having to rely on strangers for her well-being.

The one who had pulled her out of the water stepped forward and answered, "Yes – you're aboard the _Dawn Treader_." Abigail felt her head start to spin a little; she had always disliked boats for a reason she'd never been able to identify. Still, a phobia is a phobia.

She peeped, "Am I anywhere near the edge?" She felt a little odd asking questions to a group of people she didn't even know, but…well, she needed to know. Reclusiveness wasn't really an option.

xxxxx

Caspian stepped forward again. She was a little close to the railing, not dangerously so, but probably out of her comfort zone. He didn't want there to be need for him to pull her up again. He started to reach for her arm to guide her more towards the center, but she seemed to sense his hand and jerked her arm back.

"Just tell me which way to go." He wasn't sure whether to be offended or amused by the stubborn look on her face and inflection in her tone. "Please," She added as if an afterthought.

"To your right." He answered quietly. She moved a few steps to the right with quick and quiet grace. He never would have guessed that she couldn't see where she was stepping. She looked up with startling blue eyes; they weren't cloudy or rheumy, but clear and the color of crystal reflecting the sky. She whispered a thank you.

With her eyes looking slightly over his left shoulder but completely trained on him, she asked, "What's your name?"

He smiled slightly, dipping his head out of habit. "Caspian." He left off any further title, as that was completely unnecessary at the moment. Funny… He could swear she was looking right at him. He was about to say something else when a strangled yelp rang out from the other side of the deck. He spun around, his attention diverted for the moment.

xxxxx

Abigail was relieved to have the attention taken off herself, but the noise that had done so was rather disconcerting. It was followed by a rapid slapping, scuffling sound.

"Oh, Eustace," She heard Lucy mumble under her breath. Abigail stepped in her direction and whispered,

"Who's Eustace? What happened?"

Lucy replied in a rushed whisper, "Our cousin. He seems to have found Reepicheep…" She abruptly started backpedal when she realized Abigail couldn't know who Reepicheep was. "He's a mouse. Hence the, uh, screams."

"Wa-hhat?" Abigail's word was split in two by a little spurt of laughter. Of all the things in the world to be afraid of, mice were not at the top of her list.

"Nooo… he's, um," Lucy searched for a round-about way to explain.

"What do you mean?" Abigail asked cautiously. As Lucy gave a brief description, Abigail's amusement disappeared and she paled slightly as a vision of a two-foot mouse entered her head. She jumped as she heard the pattering of paws pounding towards them. Lucy, instead, stepped forwards and laughed warmly.

"Reepicheep!"

The mouse removed a feather from his ear and took a mouse-sized but regal bow. "Your Majesty." Abigail started. _He talks – wait…Majesty – Lucy? Royalty? _Her head was spinning with every new event – this felt worse, confusion-wise, than any dream. She was starting to get the sickening feeling that she was indeed awake.

"That giant rat just tried to claw my face off!" A boy's voice was shrill with indignation and nothing short of rage.

The mouse scornfully answered, "I was merely trying to dispel the water from your lungs, sir." Eustace backed away and shakily lifted a finger in the mouse's direction.

"Did – did you hear that? He's just _talked – _" This was followed by a low rumble of laughter from the crew.

Caspian crossed his arms and smirked. "The real trick is getting him shut up." Snickers ensued as the mouse glared at him with great pomp. Eustace didn't let even a moment pass before he picked up a furious rant. The mouse gave the equivalent of a raised eyebrow and said in an exaggerated whisper,

"Do you think we could throw him back?" Abigail heard Edmund snicker, followed by Lucy's arm thwaping him in the side.

"I demand to know where in the blazes am I!" Eustace's voice rang across the deck from where he had been pacing. _Hmm. My sentiments exactly._

A deep, guttural voice answered Eustace. "You're on the _Dawn Treader_, the finest ship in Narnia's navy." Eustace emitted a little squeak, which was followed by a resounding THUMP.

"Did – did he just _faint_?" Abigail didn't wait for the answer that she already knew. "Why?"

Lucy's eyebrows puckered up piteously. "Well... he's just... there's a minotaur," she whispered.

Oh, this was going to be interesting.

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><p>That night Abigail and Lucy lie awake, talking. Abigail wasn't really sharing anything personal; she was just relaying a little information of where she came from and who she was. Just enough to keep Lucy from getting curious, though that seemed impossible; apparently, Lucy was always curious. She had undermined all Abigail's attempts to remain detached, and she found herself liking the other girl against her best efforts.<p>

xxxxx

"So, this isn't your first time here?" While Abigail wasn't completely surprised at this information, it still was hard to comprehend.

Lucy shook her head, sounding little wistful as she replied, "No. I've been to Narnia twice before."

"Twice? How long ago was this?" _Lucy can't be __**that**__ old…_

"I was only eight the first time – I think that was a good thing. I was the first of my siblings to go inside Narnia, and I was probably the only one who had imagination enough to really believe what I was seeing." She laughed, and went on. "The first two times all my siblings came – I have an older brother and sister, besides Edmund." She paused a minute, then piped up. "Oh! And about Edmund… I don't know why he's…well, why he's being rude the way he is. He only just met you, after all." Abigail shrugged.

"It's okay." She grinned wryly. "If anything, I'll just have to stay out of his way." Abigail, despite her words, felt a little hurt at his quick judgment. Ignoring him probably wasn't going to work. After a second, she felt she should change the subject.

"Lucy…this is going to sound a little strange, but…could you tell me what everyone looks like?" Before Lucy could form a question, Abigail hurried on. "It just helps me get a picture of people." She added in a quieter voice, "I haven't always been blind, you know – I know what things look like." Lucy felt a prick of curiosity, but could tell from her tone that Abigail didn't want to talk about it.

"I can – who do you mean? I suppose I _could_ describe everyone, but that would get a little confusing…" Abigail attempted a smile, and Lucy felt the awkwardness of her weak joke settle at the air.

"How about you start with yourself?"

"I'll try." It was hard to paint an accurate picture of herself – harder than she thought it would be. "I'm a little shorter than you…" She proceeded to describe herself, her brother, and her cousin to the best of her ability.

Abigail nodded and asked little questions in some places. Finally, she blurted out what had been on her mind for hours– though she would never admit it, and felt slightly foolish to think about it.

"What about Caspian?"

Lucy smiled knowingly behind her hand. "Ah ha. I knew it." Abigail feigned innocence, raising her eyebrows.

"Knew what?"

"You like him, don't you?"

"Well…of course I do. He's been kind." Lucy snorted and poked Abigail's arm.

"You know what I mean. And in answer to your question, he's very handsome." She added in an exaggerate whisper, "_He's also your age, I believe_." Despite her best efforts, Abigail could feel color dusting her cheeks.

"I – that's not what I asked."_ I did __**not**__ need to know that. I feel like a ninny as it is._

A smug smile crept onto Lucy's face and she crossed her arms triumphantly. "Fine. He's very tall, um, probably about a head taller than you. He has dark eyes, and dark hair that comes just above his shoulders – very broad shoulders, mind you." She was rewarded for this last comment with a pillow to the face.

"You're hilarious." Lucy didn't answer, which could be attributed to the fact that she had rolled over with giggles. Abigail sent another well aimed thwap of her pillow towards Lucy's back. At the contact of the pillow, Lucy froze.

"I hear footsteps. I'd better blow out the light. People around here think that a queen needs beauty sleep." Even through her teasing, Abigail could tell Lucy dearly loved Narnia – and its people – and couldn't be happier. The bed creaked as Lucy stood and tiptoed to the lantern. Abigail waited until she heard the small whoof of the flame going out to whisper "good night" and roll over.

_I __**do**__ like him,_ she thought. The she shook her head. _Where did that come from?_ She didn't even know who Caspian was really – thoughts like that didn't have a place in her head. They shouldn't, anyway. For all she knew, he had a young wife and a small child eagerly awaiting his return. _No; Lucy asked if he had found a queen… and he said no. _As a small blush attacked her cheeks, she found herself wishing she could blow out her thoughts as easily as Lucy had extinguished the candle.

Instead, she rolled over, letting her train of thought roll over, too. She had long since realized that she was awake throughout this whole thing, and that everyone around her was real. She knew she wasn't dreaming the very second she had contemplated it in her mind – when you're really dreaming, you don't ever question whether you're awake or not.

It had really hit her in the face that Narnia was just as real as her world earlier that afternoon; Caspian had taken the three – Eustace still was blissfully unconscious – back to talk to them and fill them in on what was happening in Narnia. He had relayed names and places that, while she didn't understand them, had been completely convincing.

She could tell that Caspian had tried to be careful what he said, to try and put things in a format that she would be able to comprehend. While she appreciated it, it hadn't worked. She was still totally confused, though less so than when she first had surfaced from the water.

Now, that too was interesting – when she had relayed her tale to Lucy, she had been shocked to learn that uncontrollable water (flowing from something that wasn't actually capable of producing water) had been the exact same method that Lucy and her relatives had arrived from. Lucy had talked about all of them being here for a purpose, and that fact alone spun Abigail's mind. What purpose could she possibly serve this country?

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><p><strong>Note: There are a few instances where things are decribed as if Abigail could see them. I assure you, she can't. ;) These are there more for the reader's benifit, rather than Abigail's. Sorry if that was a little confusing. (Thanks, Eruantalon.) <strong>


	2. Curiosity and Consequences

**Part the second has arrived. Enjoy! **

**These people are officially on my Awesome List: AngelWeasleyxxx, liz, chibimaker, SweetSunnyRose, Eruantalon, Lady Enigmatic, and Alien. Hmmm... this looks familiar... Oh yeah, it's the PEOPLE WHO REVIEWED. I'm sure there are many more awesome people out there, but I just don't know who you are until you review. So please, **_please _**review! :)**

**Disclaimer: Well, I forgot to mention it last time, but that was my only official disclaimer for this story. Don't own Narnia, never will, and this is my last time saying so. Now, read on! **

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><p>The next day, Abigail rose to the sound of clanging; steel making sharp raps as it slashed against another piece of hard metal. <em>Swords?<em> Now came a roll of laughter, followed by bantering shouts. _Fine – if there's laughter, nobody's dying. I can keep sleeping._ She attempted to roll over, but was interrupted by Lucy clattering through the door.

"Now look who's awake. How late were you planning on sleeping, anyway?" Abigail let out a sound into the pillow that sounded like "mmmph" and reluctantly sat up, tucking the blanket around her chest.

"I almost drowned yesterday, and you want me up at dawn." She tried to convey annoyance, but ended up grinning along with Lucy. It amazed her how comfortable she was. She had never instantly made friends before, but this time it was the other way around; Lucy had befriended her, and it was impossible not to like her back.

"It's well past dawn – probably well past noon, if you ask me." Lucy started to rifle through a pile of clothes. "Here. These are for you. This will be much easier to move around in than what you were wearing before." She was wearing a white shirt that billowed around the arms and tightened again around the wrist. Loose trousers gave the impression of a skirt until you saw the boots that wound their way to her knees. Lucy set them on the corner of the bed within Abigail's reach. She then straightened up as if she's just had a thought. "Oh! Caspian and Edmund are sparring up on deck. You should hurry so you can watch – it's rather exciting." Her eyes widened as she caught herself. "I – I didn't mean… you…"

Abigail smiled wanly. "Not a problem. I'll come up."

Lucy let out an embarrassed breath. "Okay. I'll meet you up there – you can find your way up, right?" At Abigail's nod she turned and quickly left the way she came.

After arching her stiff back, she lifted the clothes Lucy had left by her side. They were very much the same as Lucy's. When her ears caught a particularly loud clashing sound, she was reminded of Lucy's word about the sword fighting. She hurriedly finished dressing – though the boots were harder to put on than they looked – and traced Lucy's path up the stairs.

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><p>As Caspian sheathed his sword, he found himself looking up at Abigail. The sight of her emerging from below had stolen his concentration for a brief second; though she was dressed like the crew, she was hard to not notice. Though he'd had to keep all his conscious attention on his opponent, he could feel her presence until the finish. Now she was standing with Lucy near the helm (carefully avoiding the railing), laughing into the breeze. After clapping Edmund on the shoulder and offering congratulations, he made his way towards her for a reason even he wasn't quite sure about. A vague warning sounded somewhere in the back of his head, but he chose to ignore it.<p>

xxxxx

Abigail had been pleasantly surprised when Caspian had gone out of his way to walk up to her. She was sure he had other things to be tending to. After she rather shyly returned his greeting – and being admonished to call him by only his name, not the "your Majesty" she had tried –she found he was very easy to talk to, and even better to listen to. His voice was soft yet strong, and his accent had a wonderfully interesting way of curving around words – a first it had a definite English sound, but as she listened further, she found there was an underlying Spanish lilt. She'd learned to notice these things after years of only being able to hear people. She found herself wanting to keep talking just to be able to listen to his voice.

Now, as she nodded at his words, she heard the unmistakable voice of Eustace. He must have emerged from below without her noticing. She gestured towards him. "He was all right after he fainted, wasn't he?"

Caspian leaned forward and rested his upper arms on the railing. "Aside from what probably is a nasty headache, he seems no worse for the wear." He grinned wryly. "Although no better, either." Abigail was inclined to agree, though it didn't feel right to hold a grudge against the boy; Eustace seemed determined to be miserable, and for that she felt sorry for him. It was hard to hold onto that feeling, though.

Caspian sighed and straightened. "What do you say we go rescue Ed and Lucy?" Abigail nodded and turned to follow him, though she secretly would have been perfectly content just carrying on their conversation for the rest of the day. Caspian had barely taken two steps towards Edmund and Lucy when Eustace stormed off spouting charges of kidnapping – and then thumped hard into Caspian.

"Kidnapping? Funny. I thought we saved your life." Caspian raised his brows and looked as if he was trying to keep from laughing. He looked off to the side and back again, all the while the amused look never leaving his face.

"You kept me against me will!"

"Did I?"

"In the most unsanitary conditions, I might add. It's like a zoo down there." He motioned spitefully towards the hold.

Reepicheep, who startled Abigail, as she hadn't known he was there, leaned towards Lucy and whispered loudly, "He's quite the complainer, isn't he?"

Edmund looked a combination of pained and annoyed as he answered, "He's just warming up."

* * *

><p>The clouds were taking on a purple hue when the Lost Islands finally came into view. Edmund, Caspian, the captain and the minotaur where standing by the edge with Caspian scrutinizing the land through a spyglass. "Not a Narnian flag in sight," he mused, passing the spyglass to Edmund.<p>

Abigail spoke up from her position behind them, unable to keep her curiosity to herself. "I thought the Lone Islands belonged to Narnia." Caspian turned, the only one of the four to acknowledge her.

"They do." He sounded grim and slightly puzzled.

Edmund clacked the spyglass back to its smallest size, then spoke with confidence. "Right. We should prepare a landing party." He looked at the captain expectantly. His statement was followed by a split-second of awkwardness.

"With all due respect, your Majesty, the chain of command on this ship starts with King Caspian." To Abigail's discernment, Drinian didn't sound the least bit remorseful. Neither did Caspian, though he had the grace to look a bit discomfited as he gave orders.

"We'll take longboats. Drinian, choose some men to come ashore." He pushed off from the rail and began to walk away. Abigail summoned her nerves and called out to him.

"C-Caspian?" His name rolled off her tongue easier than she thought it would. "May I go with you – all of you – ashore? I won't be a bother, I promise. I…" She bit her lip, not knowing what else to say. She would understand if he didn't want her in the way, but nevertheless, she would be sorely disappointed if she had stay put. The second he took to contemplate her request took what seemed to be hours.

He surprised her with, "Of course. You wanted to know why you're here – how will you find out if you stay on the ship?" She nodded, and let out a breathy "thank you".

"I'll…go find Lucy then?" Her mind had suddenly had gone blank, and she stumbled over what to say. She didn't wait for more than an affirmative syllable from Caspian before exiting. She had mixed emotions – excitement drew from the fact something was actually going to happen, and fear reared its head from the images of what might be found on the island.

xxxxx

Caspian watched her walk away in search of Lucy. He wasn't sure why he had agreed to let her come along. He knew it might – no, _would_ – make slower going to have a blind girl along. There was also the apparent hostility of the island. But something on her face... He would have said yes a thousand times just to recreate the look on her face when she thanked him. _What am I thinking?_ He blinked at the train of thought that was rapidly spiraling out of control. He had a shore party to oversee.

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><p><em>Why did I ask to come along? Why, oh, why? <em>The first thought that entered Abigail's head when she, with trepidation, tiptoed to the edge of the longboat was how she disliked standing on anything unsteady. The boat rocked lazily on the lapping waves, but the motion was just enough to give her a humiliating mental image of her body being slammed against the stone steps of the pier. "Here, give me your hand." She jumped slightly at the sudden voice of Caspian coming from the shore. She reached out a shaky hand, feeling off balance until she felt his hand closing over her own. She slowly reached her foot up and over the side of the boat, instantly feeling better when she felt solid ground beneath. The other foot soon joined it, and she let out a pent-up breath. _I'm alive. Alive is good._

"Thank you." Caspian let out an answer, but she didn't hear it in the light of his hand moving back to his side. She pinched the inside of her palm, feeling embarrassed._ I'm as bad as Lucy's teasing is making me out to be. He probably the strongest one in this boat; of course he's the one to help me._

She quickly stepped out of the way for the rest of the boat to unload. Aside from a few sailors, all who was left was Eustace. The mouse – Abigail couldn't think of him as anything else quite yet – extended a paw and offered, "Come on then, I'll help you." to the boy still in the boat.

"I've got it, I've got it." He immediately tripped and sprawled in what looked to be a painful position. Abigail winced as Lucy shook her head. After everyone stood on shore, they took a moment to take in their surroundings.

Something didn't feel right to Abigail. "Listen," She said, turning around in a circle. "Is this place deserted? Where are the people?" No one seemed to have an answer for her.

The sloping partition that led to the city was drooling with frayed ropes, and cracks threatened to topple the edges. The only noises were the sound of their feet shuffling, mingled with the breeze that ran through the chilled walls.

Suddenly, a resolute _BONG_ rang out through the air. Sea birds flapped through the air. Abigail jumped back at the heavy noise. The sound of swords being partially unsheathed slid around her. Caspian raised a crossbow to his shoulder suspiciously. But yet again, except for the rapidly dulling sound of the birds, the air was deathly silent.

Caspian began crossing toward the ramp, still keeping low to the ground. "Reepicheep – stay here with Drinian's men. We'll go have a look around. If we don't come back by dawn, come looking for us." He went onward, followed by Lucy and Edmund close behind. Abigail made a spontaneous resolution to go with them._ He __**said**__ the men stay here – I don't fall under that category in the least._ Besides, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. Eustace began creeping beside her – probably to get away from the mouse more than anything.

She started slightly regretting her decision as they wove out of sight of the docks; the air grew quieter and black haze whispered along in the shadows. She had to walk very close behind the others to be able to follow their footsteps. In better light and circumstances, the place might have been magnificent, but all that radiated from its great walls was despair and obscurity. A pale draft wafted through, brushing though Abigail's sleeves with a moaning sound. She swallowed and walked a little faster as a tremor ran up her spine.

She lost track of the turns they had made when she was suddenly startled to find a vast expanse of space all around her. The narrow streets widened into a broad circle. She stumbled a little over a trough. She bent down to run her hands over the object. Yes, it was a trough – and as she traced a wider path with her hands, there was a well stationed next to it. _Hmm._ As her fingers brushed the base of the trough, she felt water still glistening there._ So it's not abandoned._

When she stood, the others were no longer beside her. She thought she heard them, faintly, over to her left. Just to be sure, she called Lucy's name. She heard Lucy call back from a few feet away.

"I'm right here," She said, and hurried back over to Abigail's side. "Sorry." She placed a hand on Abigail's arm, and led her a few steps in the right direction. Abigail was going to say something about the water remains, but Eustace's voice rang out loudly.

"Right – nobody here – so do you think we should be heading back now?" Edmund shrugged and donned the expression he always seemed to wear when he was dealing with Eustace. "Why don't you come…guard. Something." Eustace scurried over to them, nodding emphatically. "We'll go in; you stay here and keep watch."

Eustace gave another nod. "Ah! Excellent idea, cousin." Caspian started to take a step, then stopped. He looked upward in a subtle longsuffering look, and reached for something at his side. He flipped out a dagger, delicately holding the blade and extending the handle towards Eustace. Eustace took it tentatively, pointing the tip away from his torso.

"I've got it." He held up his hand in afterthought. "Don't worry."

As the rest of the group began to turn away, Abigail whispered to Lucy, "Where are we going?"

She whispered back, "Into a… cathedral-like building; I'm not sure what it is. It seems to be in the center of the city, though."

When they stepped into said building, Abigail could feel it. The air suddenly felt cool and damp, and all noises from outside dissolved. "Can you describe it to me?" She asked Lucy, still in a whisper. She listened in growing awe as Lucy described their surroundings:

The ceiling towered above them, and bells hung from it at odd lengths. The bells were huge, and more cylindrical than most. Statues of praying but ominous figures loomed around them, staring down coolly. As Edmund's flashlight beam waved around, they could see more of their dark surroundings; in the middle of the room, there was a podium surrounded and overflowing with papers and books. In the center was a volume that was opened to about the middle. Names were spelled out, crossed out, and scribbled down. Numbers were assigned to each one, creating red and black columns down the side of the page.

"What is this?" Lucy mused. "It looks like a ledger of some sort…"

Caspian's expression darkened. "Slave traders." His remark came out succinctly. Abigail only had a brief moment to take this in and run her finger down the page before the bells began to toll. The loud bonging was scattered with ragged bellows. Abigail twisted franticly around to discern men ascending quickly from the ropes that secured the bells.

She sucked in a breath mingled with shock and fear and instinctively jumped back, though she really didn't know in what direction she was moving. The others drew weapons and prepared to fight back at the roach-like mass scattering about them. She had no weapon to unsheathe, and even if she did she wouldn't know how to use it. She yelped as she felt the sting of someone's hand latch onto her arm. Automatically, she swung her arm out, her hand contacting with the offender's neck and resulting in her arm being released. Shouts and the ringing of metal screeched in her ears as she backed away, making her way towards one of the stout pillars, only by chance avoiding other attackers. It seemed like a lifetime before her hands came in contact with the passively cool stone. She felt her way to the backside of the pillar, her breath coming in desperate gasps. A body was flung and slammed to the wall directly in front of her. She snapped her eyes shut to shield them against the rising dust and flattened her back and shoulders to the pillar, just willing it all to stop.

A man's hand clamped onto the back of her neck.

She couldn't control the scream that rose. Before she could do anything, his fingers were tangled in her hair and cold steel was pressed to her throat. He half shoved, half dragged her from behind the pillar. Her head was pulled back in a stiff position that made it hard to walk without stumbling. Their sudden presence – along with her initial shriek – had halted the struggle. The silence burned in her ears louder than all the shouting and clanging in the world.

The one gripping her spoke with slurred, sleazy speech. "Unless you'd like to see something happen to the little lady, I'd drop you weapons." At the momentary pause, his volume increased, rasping in her ear. "NOW." Lucy dropped her knife without bending down at all. Caspian's eyes still sparked with adrenaline, but he bent down to set his sword on the floor, keeping his hands flat and wide as he rose. The one holding Abigail nodded his head to a man standing close by. "There's one outside. Bring 'im in, too." He then turned to men surrounding the three. "Clap 'em in irons."

The shock induced silence broke immediately. Chains rattled and clapped. She heard Caspian's voice raise above the clamor with nothing short of rage. "Listen to me you insolent fool – I. Am. Your. King!"

A heavy handed blow sounded from the other side of the room, and Edmund hissed, "You're going to pay for that." A new voice sounded, one that Abigail hadn't heard in the earlier din.

"Actually, someone else is going to pay. For _all_ of you." _I wonder how long he's been holding __**that **__line._ Her mind annoyed her sometimes; _I am cracking mental jokes now?_ Her stomach felt weak in contrast to her brazen thoughts.

The owner of the haughty voice slowed as he passed each person, seeming to inspect his catch. The very thought made Abigail feel sick. As he reached her, his steps faltered to a stop. The combination of the slight breeze on her face and the rapid rustling of his sleeve told her all she needed to know. _He's waving his hand in front of my face._ It took all she could do not to swat him away; she had a feeling that striking him would not improve their situation. She heard him sneer in disgust, "This one's blind." He sighed, a wheezing, grinding sound. "All right. Take her with those two. These ones are to go out right away for the morning sale."

Abigail's head was starting to go numb from the constant pressure on her hair, but she felt fresh pain wash over her as she was suddenly lurched from her standing position. A grey fuzziness was beginning to creep around the edges of her mind, and it was impossible to think straight. Her breathing grew slow and shallow. Lucy's screams were only a dull echo. They were also the last thing she heard before sinking to the floor, much to the cursing of the man who vainly grabbed at her sinking body.

* * *

><p><em>CLANG.<em> Abigail awoke to the sound of something striking metal. _Oh, my head…_

"Huh-UH!" A quick grunt of exertion. _A door. Someone's kicking a metal door. _Her thoughts were rapidly becoming clearer. She was dumped into a pile of filthy straw in a low ceilinged but large cell. She groaned and ran a hand over her throbbing cheek, but she quickly dropped it when she felt the tenderness of a bruise. As she pulled herself up, she heard Edmund mutter, "She's awake." He then raised his voice a little. "Are you all right?"

She managed a nod before the clanging noise stung her head again, followed by a little growl of frustration. That must be Caspian. _Taking it out on the door, are we?_ That thought almost made her smile through the pain in her head. Almost – before she jumped out of her skin.

"You'll never get out." A thin voice wavered from the darkness. The others in the cell caught their breath, and Caspian half-whispered,

"Who's there?" He crept slowly towards the voice.

"Nobody. Just a voice in my head." Small scuffling wafted from a dark corner, and an old, weathered face began to appear.

Caspian appeared to stop breathing for a second. "Lord Bern..." He sounded awed, as well as shocked.

The old man stopped, stunned, then his face darkened. "Once was. Now I'm no longer deserving of that title."  
>Abigail stood, and tried to take a step forwards. She thought she heard one of them say something else, but her head had suddenly gone blurry. She blinked and swallowed, and her stomach turned over. She shook her head and tried again to concentrate on what was being said. She couldn't. Her head connected with the wall behind her before she even realized she was leaning back. <em>I need to sit down…<em> Her last thought turned out the lights when it left.

xxxxx

_Waking up is the worst._ She was blinking awake, this time with someone standing over her worriedly.

"Abigail – can you hear me?" She tried to respond, but her throat refused to cooperate. Instead, she coughed until her head hurt.

She stopped the question she could sense coming with her hand. "I'm okay, I'm okay," she croaked out. Her headache was coming back with a vengeance. "How long was I…did I..." She motioned weakly towards the ground.

Edmund looked at the others and shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "Fifteen, twenty minutes."

"Are you sure she's not sick?" The elderly man's voice came from the back.

"No, I'm not." _Stop talking like I'm not here. _She felt too tired to protest her thoughts. "Dehydrated… maybe. I don't know. I've never even passed out once in my life, and now I've done it twice within the same twenty-four hours." She tried to make her voice sound light, but it came out wrong. _Dehydrated, huh? Scared sick is more like it._ The little voice flicked her forehead. _Hey, they're talking to you._

She shook her head. "Sorry…what did you say?"

Caspian repeated his sentence. "You probably shouldn't try standing up so quickly this time." She nodded, feeling embarrassment start to kick in. _If I live through this…_

Loud voices accompanied heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. Caspian straightened quickly. Keys jangled in the lock, and guards burst in. Before she knew what was happening, Caspian and Edmund were being shoved through the door and dragged down the hallway – without her. The door was relocked with a clatter, ominous in its finality. _Wait – I'm still here!_

She was now locked in a cell with a man she didn't know, while her companions were being sold as slaves. _I'm not even worth trying to sell…_That should have been the least of her worries.

"Abigail, isn't it?" Lord Bern's thin voice startled her. All she could manage was a mute nod. "Strange," He muttered to himself, then raised his voice to speak to her. "Why would they leave you in here? If you'll excuse me, girls like you are where they make their money." She was repulsed by the idea, but at the same time was dispirited by the thought she wasn't worth it. _Oh, stop thinking like that. Selfish…_

"I suppose blind ones aren't of merit to them." Her reply came out in a whisper. She gave a small, rather bitter smile. "What about you?"

He guffawed. "What's an old man worth to them?" He rose and walked to the window. "I've been in here long enough; they're certainly not bringing me out now." _How much longer will __**I**__ be in here?_ That thought brought the sick feeling in her belly up to her throat. _Left to rot in a jail cell, all by my own doing…_

Lord Bern seemed to read her mind. "I don't think we'll be here too much longer. Have you little faith in your King?"

Her mind jumped a little at the potentially possessive use of "your". "No – I mean, I'm not a Narnian; he's not…" _Stop rambling. Why are you arguing a point that doesn't even matter?_

He seemed interested, if not startled, at this. "Not a Narnian? Are you then, in fact, from the same world as our Kings and Queens of old?" He had a pleasurable way of speaking; a lilting way of phrasing words that would've made Abigail smile. _Would have_, as she was still hurt and confused, and certainly in no mood to smile. She nodded in answer to his question. "Well then, Aslan must have plans for you." His voice indicated that he was sure of that fact. _If only I could be so sure. _

She had heard plenty about Aslan since her arrival, mostly from Lucy. She wished she could believe; how wonderful it would be for there to truly be someone like the Great Lion that had been described to her. She sighed. If He was there and watching over them, He was probably regretting ever bringing her to Narnia; it was because of her helplessness that they all were in this mess.

"I knew it!" Lord Bern crowed from the window. Abigail jumped, thumping her hands against the wall.

"What?"

"Our rescue has arrived." It was only then Abigail remembered Caspian's instructions to Drinian to come looking for them if they were gone past morning.

* * *

><p>Caspian swung his still-linked hands, clubbing a guard hard on the jaw. He glanced over at Edmund, who had dealt with his own guard efficiently and was relieving him of the keys to the cuffs. Loud shouts ran out from below, where the Narnians had sprung out from their cloaks only minutes before.<p>

"Keys!" Edmund tossed the jangling ring, which Caspain caught easily. He twisted his hands and unlocked the chains that bound them. With his hands now free, he reached for and unsheathed the sword of a fallen guard, and Edmund did the same.

In a flash, he remembered the two still locked in the cell. "Wait –" He shouted above the clamor as Edmund began to run down the stone steps. "Abigail and Lord Bern – they're still back there." As he turned to gesture the way they'd come, a group of guards charged up from that very direction, effectively blocking their way back to the prison. Edmund looked at him in soundless communication, and then turned back to stand beside him. They raised their swords, prepared to fight.

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><p><strong>Well? *waggles eyebrows* Let me know what you think! The Awesome List awaits... <strong>

**I'm a terrible perfectionist, so if something's wrong, let me know! It helps me sleep at night. Well, that and laying off the caffeinated tea (I know, I'm wild), but that part is my problem. You just keep up your end, 'K? :)**


	3. What I've Been

**Alrighty... I apologize for the shortness of this chapter in advance; they'll usually be longer.**

**Speaking of longer, the Awesome List is growing! Hugs go to: Eruantalon, Squirrel, HumanAlien, chibimaker, Imagination-Unleashed14, AngelWeasleyxxx, Lady Enigmatic, crazygal123, SunnySweetRose, and two unnamed reviewers. Love you guys! (BTW, there is still room on said List... *hint, hint*)**

**In answer to a question: No, I don't think Lucy's cordial would heal Abigail blindness; remember in PC, when Reepicheep's tail didn't grow back? I believe it's the same principle here. **

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><p>Abigail cringed as again the sounds of bloodshed reached her ears. While she wished there was something, anything, she could do, the darkest part of her mind whispered that it felt good to be safely locked away.<p>

Lord Bern paced incessantly, muttering about the injustice of it all, how he wasn't able to take part in the freeing of his people. He broke stride every few seconds to peer out the window, then resumed his marching. Suddenly, he stopped.

_Footsteps!_ At first she dared hope it was a rescuer coming down the hall, but then immediately was wary of slavers coming to hold them as hostages to save their own skins. Both ideas were dashed as the steps thundered past; they were probably soldiers called to fight the insurgency. Lord Bern blew out a frustrated breath, and then recommenced pacing.

Abigail wanted to beg him to stop – the sound of his boots hitting the stone in the repetitive staccato was hurting her ears as well as making her nervous. Too afraid to actually say anything, she just tried to block the sound out, as she had become so good at doing with everything else.

Several minutes later, footsteps hurried rapidly towards them again, this time coming from the opposite direction. Abigail didn't notice until the keys fumbled in the lock. She jumped up, trembling with tension, but she relaxed slightly when she heard Edmund mumble, "Hurry up…"

"My Lords," Lord Bern breathed. "Thank you!" His zeal for the fight was echoed in each fidgety move and each over-accentuated word.

Abigail, too, couldn't wait to get out of the cell, but only because she wasn't sure how much longer she could take the dank, stifling air. In her frenetic haste, she slammed her cheekbone into the metal bars. She sucked in her breath at the sting on the already bruised flesh.

The others were waiting for her. She flushed, partly with chagrin, partly from the pain. She ducked down and tripped out of the cell. They wasted no time in hurrying up the stairs. When Abigail emerged, the sounds of the battle reached her ears in full force. She stopped, unable to move. Edmund and Lord Bern were already running down the next flight of stairs, but Caspian stopped mid-flight.

"Abigail; come on!" He reached for her arm, but she pulled away.

"No," She whispered. "I can't go down there." He tried to pull her along again, urging her on, but she shook her head. "No, I… I can't. No one can divide their attention to watch out for me. You…" She almost couldn't bring herself to say it, but she lifted her chin. "You go – leave me here. Come back for me when it's all over."

He seemed to contemplate her words, then let go of her arm. "All right. Hide, Abigail – I'll come back."

Abigail nodded, biting her lip. _No! Please, insist I go with you…_She didn't voice her wild thoughts, but instead backed up until she felt the wall behind her. She slid down the coarse stone, wedged in a corner. Caspian, once he was sure of her staying put, hastily retreated.

The sounds of the conflict rang from beneath her, and she clenched her trembling fingers together. _I will not lose control. I will not…_In attempt to distract herself, she shifted, trying to unpin her leg from beneath her. Her left hand met a soft, yielding mound covered in fabric and leather. Frowning, she stayed her hand for a moment.

_A body_.

She recoiled in horror, holding her other hand, shaking, to her mouth. Lurching away from the fallen body, a sob escaped her lungs. She crawled backwards into the corner, afraid to move for fear of touching something else. _Let it be over… oh, just let it be over…_

* * *

><p>She sat there, curled in a ball until she slowly realized that the fighting had stopped. There were…cheers coming from the square. Still, she didn't dare move until she heard someone coming towards her.<p>

"Caspian?" she called carefully.

"It's Lucy." Abigail melted at the sound of her voice.

"Lucy! You're all right?" She struggled to pull her weak knees to a stand. _She's alive. __**I'm**__ alive! _"Is anyone else hurt?"

Lucy caught Abigail in a tight embrace. "Yes, yes – I mean, no! We're all fine! It scared me when the others came down and you weren't with them." She held her at arm's length. "You're unhurt?"

"I'm fine," Abigail insisted, willing her features to comply with her statement. "A little bruised, but I'll be fine." _On the outside, anyway…_ She shook her head, hoping to clear the throbbing. "What's going on now?"

Lucy talked while they walked towards the stairs. "Caspian, Drinian and Edmund are working to, well, clean up the city. You know, get rid of the slavers' business, and the slaver traders themselves. From what I heard – and I didn't really hear much – they're going to put Lord Bern at the head of a new government."

"Oh… how long are we going to be here?" She was desperately hoping to escape this island, though she knew she was being childishly selfish; the inhabitants needed a safe place to live.

"Actually, not long. I think Caspian wanted to leave the Islands before nightfall – he and Edmund seem to trust Lord Bern to take care of things." Lucy took a careful look at Abigail's pale face. "Are you… are you okay? Do you want to go back to the ship early? I'm sure I can have –"

"No, no," Abigail cut her off hastily. "I'll be fine." _Ah, can't have all those brave people see how afraid and how utterly useless you are, can we? _Her head hurt more now than ever.

* * *

><p>It had seemed to have taken all day, but the others had gotten business on the island squared away and were ready to leave. The Narnians led a procession through the streets, citizens cheering and waving goodbye.<p>

Abigail walked next to Lucy, who walked behind Edmund, Caspian and the captain, but the cheers made her want to shrink into the stones. She wasn't the cause of their liberation; in fact, she had gotten the "rescue" taken captive! She simply willed them to walk faster.

"My King," a man called, louder than the rest. He was walking rapidly towards them. Drinian held him back, but Caspian motioned for the man to come through. He explained his plight, how his wife had been taken by the mist, and Caspian granted him to come with them. Abigail paid little attention, as this halt was just another thing between her and her escape from the merriment of the crowd.

Suddenly, a little girl's voice rang out. "Daddy!" Her plaintive voice was jostled from her run across the cobbles.

"No, Gael." The man's voice was low and firm. "You need to stay here with your aunt."

"But I want to come with you," she insisted, sounding close to tears.

"Have I ever not come back?" They had started walking again, and Abigail had to strain to hear them. But when the girl's father took her into his arms and murmured a word of consolation, she was glad to turn away. There was a special spot in her heart reserved for that kind of hurt. _I want to leave. I need to leave._

* * *

><p>Abigail rolled over, listening hard. <em>Lucy's asleep.<em> She had lain still in her bed for an hour, feigning sleep and waiting for Lucy to drift off. She sat up, and quietly pulled on the boots that she had left by her bed. She was still in her clothes, having excused it to Lucy as that she was too tired to change. Now she rose slowly and made her way to the door, opening the knob soundlessly. She placed one hand on the wall, and began to drift aimlessly.

She went on, just simply placing one foot over the other listlessly. Her fingers brushed endless wood, and soon became numb to the texture. After wandering for a while, she found herself in a claustrophobic hallway where the only warmth came from a dying lamp hanging from the wall. She stopped, and again listened for anyone who might be near. Hearing nothing, she leaned her back against the wall and slid down, resting on the floor with her knees pulled up. She draped her arms across her knees, and let her head hang exhaustedly between them. The pain, frustration, and guilt from the day welled up, and, now that she was alone, it spilled over. One tear, then another, and another. _I've heard Aslan doesn't make mistakes… He did this time. _Her shoulders began to shake.

She sat there until she had gone limp from crying. She didn't think; she didn't feel anything but the present ache. She didn't know where she was. Not just in the physical world, but inside her head. _I'm lost._ _I'm really lost. _It was a strange thought.

She caught her breath. _What was that?_ She lifted her head for a second. She didn't hear it again…no, wait._ It's footsteps,_ she thought with a sinking feeling. In a moment of blind panic, she desperately clung to the hope that maybe whoever it was wouldn't see her; that they would turn around; they would keep walking. It didn't cross her mind to wonder who it was until they were just around the corner. She sank a little lower. Was everything against her?

"Abigail?" The voice sounded incredulous and slightly inquisitive. And very familiar.

_Caspian. _Numb disbelief settled in, and she couldn't move, much less answer. No, this wasn't some vague crew member. _It can't be. Oh, please, no…_

**I don't want you to know where I am, because then you'll see my heart in the saddest state it's ever been. **

**- Relient K** "_Who I am Hates Who I've Been"_

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><p><strong>Oh, and you thought I gave you a cliffhanger <strong>_last _**time... *evil laugh* I do hope you'll understand Abigail's reactions to all this... **

**There is now a picture of Abigail on my profile! Check it out! :)**


	4. Why I Cry

**Tada! The much anticipated (or at least I _hope _it was much anticipated...) chapter four! It's longer than the last one, but a little shorter than the first two. I'm working my way back up, I promise! Here: have a cookie. That's supposed to make everything better... that, and kittens. You can have one of those if you review. ;)**

**A big, long, _thankyouthankyouthankyou_ goes to my lovely reviewers: Lady Enigmatic, Dustfinger's cheering section, SweetSunnyRose, chibimaker, and AngelWeasleyxxx. You guys are awesome! **

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><p>Caspian still felt startled from coming across Abigail deep in the hold. He had been walking rounds for one of the sailors who was feeling poorly – he had volunteered, since he wasn't tired anyway. There had been no sign of anyone for a good twenty minutes, when suddenly he had walked around the corner, and there she was. But what was even more alarming than her unexpected presence was her demeanor.<p>

"Are - are you all right?" He stepped closer.

She lifted her head and croaked out, "What?" Her voice sounded shaky and thick.

"What are you…" He stopped short and took in her face. Even in the very dim light he could see the remains of tears around her eyes. "What's wrong?"

She blinked rapidly as if to hold fresh tears back. "I…" That was as far as she made it. Her head sank back between her arms. Now she was worrying him.

"Are you all right?" He asked again, this time a more firmly. He could barely detect a faint nod, but could completely see through it. Physically, she was fine – he knew that – but she still was hurting. He just stood there for a minute, not moving; he didn't know what to do without prying too far.

When she drew her knees up, seeming to shrink in size, his mind made itself up. He crouched down to her limp height. "Tell me what's wrong." He didn't know if he could help, but he couldn't help but try.

She wrapped her arms around her legs and balled up even tighter, but she lifted her head up. "Absolutely everything." Her muted reply didn't seem too far from the truth. He just sat there and waited for her to elaborate. She rested her chin on her arms, her long hair falling around her face. "I don't belong here," she whispered. It almost sounded like a resigned question.

"Of course you do – there's a purpose for –" The response had been rather automatic, but she cut him off even before he had finished voicing it.

"I am so sick of hearing that!" Her sudden vehement tone sprang up, surprising him. "'You're here for a reason,'" She mimicked no one in particular, but he still felt a stab of guilt as he recognized his own words. "I am not, and I think that was pretty well proved." Her voice broke, and her momentarily stiff back melted again. "What-what happened yesterday – that was my fault, you know."

He felt a little taken aback; whatever he was expecting her to say, that hadn't been it. "What are you talking about?"

Abigail didn't seem to have heard him; she rocked on her heels slightly and her chin trembled. "I'm sorry…"

He sat there for a second, a little dumbfounded as he realized what she meant._ She thinks she's the reason we were captured._ He resisted reaching out to her, even though that would have been a natural gesture. "I don't remember any such thing resulting from you."

"You know it was."

"No, I–" She stopped him with words that were so soft that he barely heard them.

"Don't lie to me. Please don't lie to me." It took a minute for him to think about what she was saying. Then he supposed she was right; saying what he thought she wanted to hear just to appease her was a lie – in a way. However, he never had even entertained the thought that it was her fault in any way.

"If I hadn't insisted on coming along, you wouldn't have had to contend with the helpless rag doll being used as a bargaining chip." Her voice was still low, and so raw it was almost painful.

He sat back and ran one hand over his arm. "Abigail, you…" He trailed off, trying to find words for his thoughts. "You can't think about what might have happened or what could have been." That hit a sore spot in his heart, but he refused to let himself think about that – this was not about him.

"Well, maybe I can't, but that doesn't stop me from doing it." Her sentence made perfect sense, although it didn't seem as though it should. She shook her head and curled up again. "I shouldn't have insisted on coming along. I should have known."

xxxxx

Once she had pushed her way past the initial humiliation, she had to admit that it felt good to talk to someone who seemed to understand, even if she was just venting. But even though saying it out loud brought some comfort, she didn't feel calm inside; he could tell her that it wasn't her fault as many times as he wanted to, but that didn't make her heart believe it. Her rational mind could say anything it wanted, but _rational _wasn't one of her emotional categories right now.

"Abigail, you didn't insist; I let you come along." He started gently, trying to further his point.

She wasn't going to let that pass. "Would you have even thought about it if I hadn't asked?" He paused at this, and then let out a deep breath.

"I don't know." She heard total honesty in his tone, and for that she was grateful. He sighed and started back in, his voice low and quiet. "It was not your fault, Abigail. You can't take the blame for something that involved all of us." His caring tone knocked something loose inside of her again. Her eyes welled up.

She sat there for a little, letting everything run through her mind one more time. He stayed right there also, and was quiet. For both of those facts she was grateful; she felt fatigued, and didn't think she would be able to talk even if she still had something to say; and just his strong, silent presence was peaceful.

She heard him stand, and, for a split-second, she was afraid that he was going to just walk away. _I wouldn't blame him. _That all disappeared when she hear him say, "Here. Give me your hand." She raised a hand, and felt his clasp around it, pulling her up. She stood so quickly that she had to take a step forwards to keep her balance. As she righted herself, she realized just how close they were standing.

Time crept to a standstill.

She could feel his breathing lightly brush her face; hear the very rise and fall of his chest. She desperately, achingly wished she could look up at him and see those eyes that she could feel on her own face. She closed her eyes, and found that she didn't want to move. The moment this crossed her mind, she stepped back quickly. _Stop it, Abigail. _She could feel something in the air shatter.

He cleared his throat. "Would you like me to walk you back to your room?"

She nodded and smiled faintly. "Thank you. I don't think that I could find my way back alone." He reached out, and placed a guiding hand on her shoulder. It was all she could do to concentrate on breathing the whole way back. As on her walk over to the hallway, she lost track of how long a walk it was until they stopped.

His voice broke the silence. "Here we are." He turned the knob, and the door swung open. She lifted a hand to find the doorframe, and jumped slightly when his hand contacted with her own. He gently moved it to one side, where she felt the cool wood frame. She felt her hand begin to shake, and knew it had nothing to do with being cold. She didn't think she could open her mouth even to thank him.

He saved her from answering. "Goodnight, Abigail. Get some sleep." Then he let go, stepped back, and disappeared. His footsteps receding down the hall echoed in her head as she stepped inside and shut the door.

She walked slowly to the edge of the bad, and sat down, facing the door. Her hands rested in her lap. She didn't move for what could have been an eternity, then she leaned to one side and rested her head against the wall. She replayed every one of his words in her head, and then started over again. It was a good thing breathing didn't take any effort because she wouldn't have bothered. She finally fell asleep, just resting on the wall.

* * *

><p>"Where did I go wrong?" Lucy groaned plaintively. Abigail ran her hand over the stitches in the vest that Lucy had just been sewing on.<p>

"Right here – see? You wrapped your thread around the wrong way." Lucy sighed, took the garment back into her own hands, and began pulling out stitches.

They were sitting on a couple of overturned buckets up on the main deck. Lucy had discovered the side seam on her vest was unraveling, and Abigail had offered to help, as apparently she was a much better seamstress than Lucy. The sun was shining brightly overhead, and there were no clouds in the sky. A strong breeze played with Abigail's hair, persistently pulling strands into her face.

She could almost forget the dust that had gathered in her mind from last night in the light of this bright morning. _**Almost**__ is the key word…_ She still had yet to say anything to Caspian, aside from "good morning". There had always been other people around, and the timing had never been right. Then again, she didn't know exactly what to say to him – except maybe a thank you, but even that wouldn't do justice.

"Abigail!" Lucy's tone implied that she had said her name several times before Abigail had actually heard it.

"Oh – what?"

"Is this right?" She set her needlework in Abigail's hands. Abigail fingered the most recent stitches, and nodded absently.

"Nice job. You know how to knot it, right?"

"Um, ye - well…could you do it? I'm sick of having to take out stitches." Abigail smothered a smile. Lucy had had to redo her first stitches several times before getting the hang of it.

"Sure; hand it to me." When she had the needle in her hand, she began the process of tying up the thread. She was able to do it without even thinking about it, she had done it so many times before. Not that she wasn't thinking. She was entirely appreciative that she had woken up before Lucy that morning; her disheveled appearance would have brought up questions that Abigail wasn't ready to answer. She had barely had had time to change and wrap her hair in a thick braid down her shoulder before Lucy had began to stir.

Shaking her head minutely, she strained to concentrate in the task at hand. She slid the thread under one more time, and then expertly broke it off. "There. Good as new." She handed it back to Lucy, who began to put it back on.

Lucy looked somewhere off into the distance, and then said, with suspicious brightness, "Oh, look! I think Edmund wants me." She then hopped up, leaving Abigail to herself. _All right…maybe I'm just being paranoid, but her quick departure is – _

Footsteps. Walking towards her… she had the feeling she knew who it was; if she was right, it would explain Lucy's sudden disappearance as well as her sudden feeling of anxiety. _It's Caspian, I know it._ She felt the grasp of apprehension pinch around her sides, and she forced herself to relax and sit up.

She called out a tentative hello, and wasn't sure whether she felt sick or relieved at the familiar sounding response.

"Abigail – how are you?" Caspian sounded amiable, but also a little hesitant, as if he were unsure of what her answer might be. _I have to say something now – I'm not going to get another chance anytime soon. _

She took a deep breath, wondering why she felt so nervous. "I actually feel much better this morning. And I –" _Just keep going._ "I want to say thank you – for… for what you did last night. I don't know – and you… thank you." There she stopped; there was nothing more she could say. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she held her breath, waiting for a response.

She didn't have to wait long. She heard him sigh, as if he'd been holding his breath the same way she was. "That's not a problem – I'm just glad you're all right now." A hint of a smile crept into his words, and Abigail immediately felt a load lift from her shoulders. Her nerves began to release on their own, and a smile began to form on her own face.

She didn't have time to do anything more than open her mouth when someone scrambled on deck, creating a scene. They seemed to be running from someone else; they bumped into sailors and rigging, stumbling and stammering.

"Who is that?" She inquired.

Caspian was grinning as he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Eustace. It seems Reepicheep caught him at something."

"And _that_," Reepicheep's now raised voice carried over from the other side of the deck, "is for good measure." Eustace yelped with indignity.

Abigail guessed Eustace had a weapon of some sort in his hand; he commenced slashing at Reepicheep as the mouse playfully called mocking advice to him. The sailors gathered around hooted, called, and laughed along with the pace of the "battle". Reepicheep toyed with Eustace a little while longer – bouncing just out of his reach and then taunting him – before surprising him from behind, pushing him over with his hind paws. Eustace lost his balance, crashing into a nearby barrel.

A thin scream split through the air – and it wasn't Eustace's. Abigail immediately sat straight up. "Who was that?" She whispered insistently.

She heard Caspian catch his breath. "Oh…"

"What is it?" She asked again.

Someone spoke up before he could answer. "Gael?" It was a man's voice – the one that had joined from the slave islands. The name poked something in her memory.

She breathed in sharply. "I remember her!" _The little girl who had to stay behind – or was supposed to, anyway. _

She jumped slightly when Caspian spoke up from beside her; she had momentarily forgotten about his presence. "What?" But she barely heard him. She was still concentrating on the scene in front of her.

The little girl that had emerged from the upset barrel had yet to speak; instead, she stood there, impossibly large brown eyes staying trained on the deck. Her father stood planted as well, seeming too shocked to do anything. Then he started forward and gathered her into his arms. He whispered something in her ear, and hugged her tight.

Abigail felt her eyes sting, and shut them tightly to keep the unexpected tears back. The fatherly gesture wrapped around her heart and pulled tight. Her raw emotions threatened to burn outwards, lit up by this tender spark.

The captain stepped forwards, and all murmuring hushed momentarily. He looked down at the timid child for a second, then let out a small, if not slightly amused, sigh. "Well then. It looks like we have a new crew member." The noise instantly started back up as the crew members began to whisper among themselves again.

Abigail made a split second decision and stood. She made her way to where the little girl was still shrinking behind her father. She bent down to Gael's height. "Hello," she started softly. "I'm Abigail. Would you like to come with me and get cleaned up?"

Perhaps Gael was just the trusting sort, or something about Abigail's female presence was comforting. Either way, she nodded shyly. Her father answered out loud for Abigail's sake.

"Yes; thank you." He sounded a little reluctant to let his daughter go out of his sight, but seemed to recognize that she needed it. Abigail stood and reached out her hand, waiting until she felt Gael's smaller hand wrap around it before she nodded to the man and began to walk towards the stairs.

She began to strike up an easy conversation, more for Gael's sake then for her own, though she was curious how the girl made it on board. "Now; were you in that barrel all night?"

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><p><strong>Would it move you to review if I said I had a cold, am miserable, and have depleted our vitamin C stock? Well, I do, I am, and I have. So... review! I've heard it works wonders for the common cold. :)<strong>

**Ooo - and there are a couple illustrations for this chappie on my profile... take a peek!**


	5. Again the Unknown

**My, it's Friday already... enjoy!**

**My wonderful, awesome, miracle-working reviewers! Muth, DragonStar35232, SunnySweetRose, AngelWeaslyxxx, chibimaker, and Lady Enigmatic - Thank you guys SO much! There are still kittens for those of you who have yet to review!**

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><p>Abigail sat back, listening to the light breathing of sleeping Gael. She had helped the young girl rinse off the dirt and grease, and then had let her drift off to sleep amidst the clean sheets of the bed the girls shared. Gael was now sleeping soundly, no doubt exhausted from spending the night in the cramped barrel.<p>

Abigail knew how she felt; she was on the edge of nodding off herself. She let her head droop, but was jerked back by a quick rap on the door. Blinking, she rose and felt her way to the door. Her hand closed around the knob, and she poked her head out. "Who is it?"

"It's me – Caspian." He cleared his throat. "How is she?"

Abigail smiled, relaxing. "Fast asleep. She didn't talk much, but she seems to be just shy."

He nodded, and seemed to be thinking. "All right," He said at last. "I just wanted to find out myself." Here he paused as if there was more he wanted to say.

Abigail bit her lip, waited a moment, then spoke. "Is…there something else?"

He grinned sheepishly. "There are about ten people waiting at the top of the stairs to pounce on me when I go back. Her father, for obvious reasons, wants to know if she's okay; Lucy claims she's dying of curiosity; Drinian wants to know what's going on…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "I barely managed to get down here without bringing the whole crowd with me."

Abigail snickered. "Well, thank you for that – although Gael could probably sleep through anything right now. Actually, I was thinking I would join her; I keep catching myself yawning."

"I'll leave you to it then – just hold the yawns back until I leave, or I may fall asleep where I stand."

Despite his teasing tone, Abigail suddenly felt a little guilty. She knew why he had been up so late last night. "I'm sorry. I hope you're not too –"

"No, its okay," He broke in hastily, perhaps guessing what she was thinking. "I just couldn't sleep last night, that's all."

She gave a small smile. "I suppose kings don't take naps, then?" She asked lightly, hoping the subtle change in topic would take away the nervous feeling. It didn't.

He gave a quick, genuine laugh – the kind that made her want to laugh with him. "No, I suppose not. Well, Lucy threatened to come down on her own if I wasn't back in two minutes. I'll see you later, then?"

She nodded. "Of course." She waited a moment, and then hesitantly backed into the room, shutting the door. She leaned against the doorpost, and a slow smile spread across her face, sleep suddenly forgotten.

* * *

><p>"Abigail!" Abigail's hammock rolled from side to side. "Wake up!" <em>Lucy, I'm going to…<em>

"All right, this better be good." Abigail groaned and reluctantly sat up.

"We're approaching land!"

Now she was a little more aware. "Already?" She rubbed her eyes with one hand. "We just set out yesterday afternoon."

Lucy shrugged. "I guess these islands were clustered together or something… I don't know. But Caspian said we're going ashore tonight!"

Abigail felt her stomach flip. _I don't suppose that would have anything to do with the LAST time you went ashore, now would it?_

"Well, come on, get up!"

Abigail still felt hesitant. "You don't think Caspian really wants me to come, do you?"

"Actually…" A grin started to form on Lucy's face. "He said he wanted to talk to you about that."

"Stop smirking."

"And you would know this, how?"

"You have a tell, Lucy, you have a tell."

Both of them fell over smothering their giggles.

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><p>"You're sure you want me with you?" Abigail still couldn't believe that Caspian actually thought she should come ashore. Then the way she had phrased her question caught up with her and she blushed, if only to herself.<p>

"If you want too, then yes. We'll be staying on the shore overnight, so…" He shrugged. "It's up to you."

He had to force the words out. He cared too much, and he knew it. In fact, maybe it was better if she wanted to stay behind. After all, she had every reason to. He watched her face carefully, trying to catch what she was thinking. Her eyes flitted from side to side, and suddenly looked right up at him, catching his eyes. _Light blue…_

He knew she wasn't really looking at him… and yet, she was. It felt like she could see right through him. Please, come with us – with me. Had he spoken that out loud, or just thought it? He was losing his grip on the reins that held his thoughts in check. He'd already done that, three years ago, and look where it had left him.

"All right." Her voice startled him. "If you're sure I won't be a bother… But then again, that's what I said last time." A little half-smile graced her face. "If I get you all kidnapped again you have my permission to dump me overboard."

He knew she really had felt bad about what she thought was her fault, and it felt good to hear her make light of it. "We wouldn't do any such thing. Besides, I believe this island is uninhabited."

"I'll have to take your word for it." He was just now noticing how her eyes lit up when she laughed. _You are noticing too much._ He didn't believe a word his mind was trying to tell him.

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><p>Abigail returned down to her room where she had left Gael with Lucy. She walked in to find Lucy waiting on her own.<p>

"Where did Gael go?"

"Oh, she's just changing." Lucy gestured to the door that led to an adjoining room.

Abigail nodded soundlessly, trying to figure out how to phrase a question she didn't really want to ask. Or rather, she was afraid to know the answer. "People don't…_stay_ in Narnia, do they?" There. There was the question that has begun to plague her mind. "You and me – people of our world have to go back."

"As far as I know." Sadness now sounded in her voice, and Abigail was sorry she had put it there. "When everything is set right, we are returned to our world. Even after my brothers and sister and I had ruled for years, when we went back, our old lives resumed at the very moment we had left." A wistful note crept into her voice. "I always want to stay forever, but… I have people I love at home, and they need me, and I them."

"Mm…" Abigail's absent reply wasn't really an answer. _Home…if only._

"What's wrong?" Lucy's gently inquisitive voice came through her thoughts.

"It's just…" She didn't want to talk about it, but she felt she owed it to Lucy. "I wish I could say the same as you – about a home, and people who love me." She gave a watery smile. "I'm…it's okay. I've lived that way for years." Her tears called her a liar. She hated crying so much, but couldn't seem to help it; so many times since she had been pulled to Narnia, areas of her life she had hoped never to see again had been opened.

"You don't have to tell me if it hurts too much." Genuine compassion. Something Abigail couldn't even remember hearing, and here there were so many people who had showed it to her. She ran a hurried hand over her eyes to dash away the hotness behind her eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you, Lucy."

Lucy's hug felt like love itself.

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><p>The minute Abigail stepped onto the island, she new she was going to like it. Even through the leather of her boots, she could feel the coolness of the pale ground and, as she walked in farther, the uneven grass.<p>

Gael had shyly requested to come with Abigail and Lucy. Her father had agreed, as long as he could come ashore with her. Gael now held Abigail's hand in her own, and was describing their surroundings in hushed, excited tones. Abigail suspected the sailors were just glad to have the little girl occupied while they set up the small, mobile camp.

Caspian couldn't help the smile that edged onto his lips as he watched Abigail trot behind the chattering Gael. Around everyone else, Gael was reserved and quiet, but around both Abigail and Lucy she was opening up.

His eyes moved from Gael to Abigail. She pointed to the nearest tree – which was shaped oddly – listened to Gael, then laughed. His ears strained to catch the sound, but the breeze carried it just out of reach.

"Caspian…" Edmund elbowed him, his hands full. "You were helping me with this?"

Caspian blinked, but replied without switching his gaze. "Right." After one more second, he turned away and followed Edmund back to the forming camp.

* * *

><p>Abigail had never slept outside before; it was a new feeling, and one she was sure she would love. Most of the others were already asleep, but she was enjoying herself too much to shut down her senses. Wind rustled through the trees, and some kind of animal chirped occasionally. The waves were a restless cadence. She just lay there, listening to the sounds of the island and of her sleeping companions. The air felt so much clearer here, even more so than it had in the daytime. She supposed she might have felt intimidated by the unknown openness, but really she had never felt safer. Lucy and Gael were sleeping on either side, and they were surrounded by Narnians who wouldn't hesitate to fight any danger that arose. <em>Besides, <em>she thought drowsily, _how much danger could there be in a place like this?_

Abigail loved dreaming. It was when she was dreaming she could feel the way things used to be – she could see. It was a foggy, color-washed world, but she could see it. People never had faces, but were instead were voices personified. What she couldn't see in the real world, her mind pieced together from what was remembered from and eight-year-old's mind.

_Thud_. The dream began to fade away, punctured by the dull noise. _No, _she groaned inwardly, reaching to pull the dream world back. Then she froze. Heavy thwumping reverberated thought the damp, dark air. As she became more aware, she felt arm was pinched beneath her, but she dared not move.

"_This one's female."_ Her heart stopped._ Me?_

Another harsh whisper came. _"So are these two." Not just me…all of us! _She was sure they (whatever they were) could hear her quickening breathing.

_"Just pick one, and let's go!" _This one sounded nervous.

A sharp scuffle sounded to Abigail's left, and, just as suddenly as they had come, the thuds receded.

Abigail sat bolt upright. _I'm dreaming. Please let this be a dream. _She opened her eyes. No such luck. As she felt to her left, panic began to rear its head. _Lucy!_ Lucy was gone.

She crawled to her feet, and, without thinking, followed the now dimming thuds. What she would do if she caught up to…whatever it was, she didn't know; she hadn't thought that far ahead.

After only a moment of trying to pick through the heavy brush on the edge of the beach, she realized that was hopeless. As yet another branch slapped her in the face, frustration took over. She slapped right back, her palm connecting with the offending branch._ Stupid, stupid! And what were you planning on doing – rescuing Lucy all by yourself? Go back and get help, like you should've done in the first place. _Now, not only was she scared and frustrated, she was in pain. She wasn't sure what hurt more; the stinging scratch on her face or the stinging of her pride.

On her way to where the others were sleeping, her foot caught in a dip where the sand suddenly dropped several inches. She frowned slightly, faltering. She bent down to feel for the divet, and found it quickly. _It's a footprint… _It was huge and deep, and had sprayed sand around it as if the walker had been awkward. _Oh, **not** good. _

She hurried the last few placed to where she had been sleeping. "Gael! Wake up, quickly!" She shook the girl's shoulder. Before Gael had time to do more than roll over, Abigail pulled her to her feet. "Go and get Edmund and Caspian for me – go now!" Gael didn't question Abigail's urgent whisper, but nodded and hurried off. It seemed to take far too long before someone approached her.

"What is it?" It was Edmund, his voice still low with sleep.

"Lucy's gone." She spit the words out so quickly, it was a wonder he understood them.

"What?" He instantly sounded more alert. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean "am I sure"?" _OF COURSE I'M BLOODY SURE! _She didn't trust herself to say anything else; instead she let out an aggravated and infuriated squeak. She was probably overreacting to an innocent question, but it didn't feel like it. Not with Lucy at the mercy of some creature, what with her having lost so much time already.

"Sure what?" Caspian came up behind Edmund, followed by Gael. He looked closer at the swelling mark on her brow bone. "What happened to give you that nasty scratch?"

Abigail drew in one shaky breath to calm herself down, then relayed what had happened. "…and I tried…" She stopped, unable to bring herself to repeat what she had _thought_ she could do. "And they went that way," She finished, pointing.

"Are you su –"Edmund stopped mid-sentence at her look. "Right. Caspian?" He sounded worried, and ready to go. Caspian nodded, swiftly waking Drinian and leaving him to wake the others.

"Gael." The young girl understood Abigail's whispered plea. She took her arm and guided her after the others, who were already heading for the woods.

* * *

><p>The rapid pace had been challenging for Abigail to follow, but having Gael by her side had helped. The thicker, wooded area hadn't lasted long, and had given way to grass and sporadic shrubbery. Edmund had found Lucy's dagger just a few paces ago, so they knew they must be close.<p>

The Abigail heard it. The same ugly thumping she had heard on the beach came just before her companions began shouting and being tossed about. Weapons were drawn only to be knocked from their hands. Something collided with Abigail's shoulder, shoving her to the ground. She let go of Gael's hand to avoid dragging her down.

"Stop right there, or perish." A deep, gravelly voice that was meant to convey fierceness.

"What are you?" Caspian challenged from the other side of the clearing. _Odd question to ask…_

"Gael," she whispered, "What do they look like?" When Gael didn't answer, Abigail called her name again, a little more urgently this time.

Gael's voice wavered when she finally replied. "I…I don't know. I don't see anything – just their breath fogging." _Well…invisible whatever-they-are's…**That's** fascinating. _Though this new threat _seemed_ potentially more dangerous than the slave traders had been, Abigail didn't feel the same fear she had a few days ago. The others were more at odds, but the thing that seemed to be throwing them off was that they couldn't see their attackers. Nothing new for Abigail.

"We're terrible beasts!"

"Yeah."

"Yeah…"

"Did I mention that we're _very _large?"

"If you could see us, you would be really intimidated right now."

These didn't sound like killers. Abigail cocked her head and felt an odd little smile cross her face. In fact, they sounded…rather harmless. The little boy pretending to be a fierce bully. They kept going, elaborating on a description that Abigail was sure wasn't anywhere near reality.

"We have the head of a tiger, and the body of, uh… um," One started, but didn't seem to be able to hit on the perfect portrayal.

"Another tiger!" _Well, **there's** a bright one._

"Well put, Chief."

"Very well said."

"Yeah."

The hilarity of it all was starting to get to Abigail. She dropped her head down to hide giggles that were fast escaping. She ended up letting out a few strangled coughs in attempt to mask her silly laughing, now certain that Lucy was unharmed and safe somewhere. 

Abigail's coughing caught Caspian's attention. The last time she was coughing, she had fainted. But as he glanced over at her, the glimpse he caught of her face looked fine – in fact, she appeared to be…_laughing? _They were all down on their knees and being forced to stay there by some unseen enemy; Caspian wasn't really in a laughing mood. Granted, their captors didn't seem to be too bright, but that didn't change the fact that they could be dangerous.

_Hysteria, perhaps?_ Again he peeked at Abigail. Her giggles seemed to have subsided, but she still had an amused – and completely alert – expression on her face as she listened to their captors.

Then he looked up.

Their surroundings were starting to shift._ No, hold on…_Not the land itself; the foreground. He almost wanted to laugh himself, mostly _at _himself. Their "terrible" captors were no more than four feet tall (two stacked on top of each other had given them their height), round-bellied, and had one comical foot.

The creatures seemed to realize something was wrong with their plan; their prey wasn't afraid anymore! One with scrubby grey-red hair faltered in his threats, and promptly lost his balance. Others followed suit, and suddenly the ground was littered with little creatures scrambling for their weapons.

Edmund was on his feet, livid. Caspian rose to his feet to follow him as he marched over to the red haired leader.

Edmund snatched one of the fallen swords and held it to the little man's throat. "What have you done with my sister, you little –"

"Edmund." Abigail's soft voice startled both of them. She was on her feet standing right behind them. "Don't hurt him - we'll find Lucy."

Edmund didn't respond, but held his sword and furious gaze steady. The little man cracked, his bravado gone. "She's in the mansion."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "What mansion?" Caspian tapped his shoulder, awestruck.

"I think he means that." The air seemed to liquefy, and a grand building filled in the crevices between bushes.

Edmund's fury melted for an instant. "Oh, _that_ mansion," he breathed.

Abigail heard someone crashing through the foliage behind them. Too late, she remembered Eustace, whom apparently no one bothered to wake. _Oops. _

"You know, I'm really getting tired of you all leaving me behi-" He stopped short at the odd scene in front of him. "This place just gets weirder and weirder!"

The creatures seemed to take offense. Mumbles of "weird?" and "he's calling _us_ weird?" reached her ears. Again, she had to muffle her giggles. _I just need to get alone for a second, let out a huge laugh, and then I'll be okay. _Giggle.

Suddenly, the creatures let out yelps along the lines of "the Oppressor!", and began stumbling backwards.

A very familiar voice rang out. "My friends, this is Coriakin."

"Lucy!" Three voices rang out together.

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><p><strong>And, in case you were wondering, YES, the reviews totally cured my cold. :) Well, my nose is still out of whack, but that could be cleared up in no time... *hint, hint* If you missed it... *coughREVIEWcough* <strong>

**There is also another illustration for this chapter on my profile. I'm not planning on drawing something for each chapter (sorry!), but I happened to have one here. ;) Check it out! **


	6. Locked Inside

**For this chapter, I'd like to thank my mother, my dog, my seventh grade teacher, the peanut butter I ate for lunch... oh yeah, and my reviewers! DragonStar35232, AngelWeasleyxxx, chibimaker, and SunnySweetRose - you guys bring me much joy. :) **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Lucy introduced the elderly man as Coriakin, the ruler of the island. The creatures, called Dufflepuds by Coriakin, argued that point, claiming that Coriakin had wronged them and was not the rightful ruler. The sorcerer corrected them and politely chased them away with what he revealed to be lint.<p>

Abigail, Lucy, Edmund, Drinian, Eustace, and Caspian were now being led through the dark, mysterious hallways of Coriakin's home.

Abigail tugged at Lucy's arm, and whispered, "What happened? What did they have you do?"

Lucy slowed, putting a little bit of distance between her and Abigail and the others. "Well, Coriakin turned them invisible, and they wanted me to turn them back." And Abigail's unspoken question, she said quietly, "They can't read." Abigail had to smile at the sympathy lacing Lucy's voice. You probably couldn't intimidate Lucy into doing anything, but give her someone to feel compassion for… there's a whole different matter.

"How did you change them back?"

"Well, there was this spell book… there were so many different spells! Some to cure coughs, one to make it snow…" She grinned at that one, and then continued. "Then I found "The Spell to Make the Unseen Seen."" She shrugged. "After that, Coriakin appeared, and I came out to find all of you."

Abigail was getting the distinct feeling that Lucy was leaving something out. She waited, giving Lucy a chance to say whatever else there was. But there was only an uncomfortable silence. Abigail decided to let it go.

* * *

><p>Coriakin unfurled a heavy piece of canvas that formed into a map on the floor.<p>

"Here is your foe." A little rush of air, and the map's view moved from water to a dim, flickering black island. "DarkIsland, the source of the mist." He walked in a small circle, looking at each of his listeners. "It is wholly evil, and seeks to destroy all good in this world; it will take your darkest dreams and turn them into a reality; it will not rest until it has corrupted all of Narnia." He spoke with seriousness, and a dead certainty that seemed to turn the air cold.

Lucy stepped forward and said with hard determination, "How do we stop it?"

"You must break its spell." Coriakin pointed to the sword in Edmund's sheath, the one Lord Bern had given him. "That sword you carry; there are six others like it."

"The six other Lords," Caspian mused. "They passed though here? Where did they go?" He questioned Coriakin.

"Where I sent them," the sorcerer said succinctly. The map moved once again, this time to a much pleasanter looking island. "Ramandu's island. There the seven swords must be laid at Aslan's table – only then will the darkness be defeated." He lowered his hand, and a brilliant blue sphere descended and hovered above the island. "The blue star will be your guide."

Then he turned and his voice deepened. "There will be many trials. You will be tempted – the darkness will reach inside and try to take you." His voice took a cryptic tone. "Do not fall into temptation." While he seemed to be warning all of them, he lingered meaningfully in front of Lucy. _Ah, so there **is** something thing she isn't telling me._

Coriakin resumed walking around the small circle. "To defeat the darkness out there, you must first defeat the darkness within yourself." He then stopped, finished. "All I can do is warn you, and send you with my blessing." With that last word, he motioned them out of the study.

Abigail followed the others out, only to be stopped by a hand on her arm. Coriakin spoke with words only meant for her. "Do not underestimate yourself, dear child. Aslan's purposes will become clear in time." Then he disappeared, leaving Abigail with a warm feeling she couldn't explain, and yet a broil of confusion in her belly.

* * *

><p>Coriakin had offered to let them stay the night on his shores, but Caspian had declined, having taken in the storm clouds on the horizon and decided that they should get moving as quickly as possible. Abigail was mildly disappointed; she loved the feel of this island, and wasn't in a hurry to return to the ship. Nevertheless, she went without complaint, as there was no point to arguing.<p>

* * *

><p>That night, Abigail felt her shoulder being rocked by more than just the ship.<p>

_"Abigail,"_ Lucy whispered excitedly. Abigail responded by burrowing her head deeper into the pillow.

"Go 'way," She protested. Lucy didn't.

"Wake up!" She only paused long enough for Abigail to pull the pillow off her head. "We're going up to watch the stars – Edmund and I – I think Caspian's there too – I mean, I know you can't – but I was wondering if you wanted to come up." She finished without taking a single breath.

Abigail was still too entangled in sleep to think straight. "_What?_" Lucy reiterated her earlier sentence, this time taking the time to install periods and complete her sentences. Abigail gathered that "wondered if you want to" really meant "you're coming up, and there will be no declining".

She sat up reluctantly. "Fine. Lemme' get my shoes on." A yawn muddled her words. She slid into the boots and gathered a blanket under her arm just in case it was cold on deck.

And so it was. A chilly breeze sliced across her as soon as her head cleared the hatch. It was not much colder than it had been on the island, but there was a rather swift breeze that was probably the result of the approaching clouds.

She and Lucy met both Edmund and Caspian on deck. Lucy propped her arms on the railing and immediately began surveying the sky, peppering Caspian (who, of course, is the only one who would know) with "what about that one?" and "what is that constellation called?".

Abigail sat behind them on a barrel, content to listen to the other's quiet dialogue. Whenever Caspian spoke, whether it was in answer to a question or merely pointing something out, a warmness fanned out across her face. The more she chastised herself to stop, the harder it was. _Thank heavens it's dark out and none of them can see my face. _

As she listened further, she noticed Caspian stumbling over answers and often admitting he simply didn't know what certain stars were named. Perhaps astronomy hadn't been a strong suit of his…

xxxxx

_Astronomy has never been my strong suit,_ Caspian thought in annoyance as yet again he couldn't remember an answer. It had been a particular passion of the Professor's, and he had insisted Caspian learn. He often would appear at odd hours of the night, shaking Caspian awake and dragging him – literally – to the rooftop to observe the heavens. "Five more minutes" had become Caspian's favorite and most used phrase during those days. Needless to say, he hadn't retained much of those lessons, and that had been over three years ago.

Then again, perhaps his sudden tangled speech had something to do with the delicate creature on the barrel just behind him. Abigail was simply sitting there with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and her chin in her hands, listening to their words. _I wonder what it would be like if it were my arm around her shoulders instead of that blanket…_

He had missed one of Lucy's questions. "Sorry – what did you ask?" Lucy pointed again to the sky and repeated her question. "I – I'm sorry." He also repeated his words. "I'm afraid I don't know." He gave a sheepish smile. "I'm also afraid I haven't been much help, and probably won't be. My mind is elsewhere, I suppose." _I'm still thinking like a love-struck boy, thank you. _The word _love_ suddenly caught in his mind. He had thought that before about someone…

"Anywhere but astronomy, right?" He was surprised by the voice behind him, and felt a smile creep onto his face at the teasing sound of her voice. He turned around, resting his elbows on the rail. Edmund had turned to speak with Lucy, and Caspian suddenly felt as if he were alone with Abigail. He didn't mind it one bit.

"How did you know?" He went along.

"I'm assuming you didn't pay much attention when learning about the stars?" She tipped her chin and mischievously raised an eyebrow.

"You assume correct. It was never my favorite subject, but it _was_ a favorite of my professor's, and so…" He shrugged. "I know enough to be useful. In some situations. To some extent."

She giggled, a sound he had never heard anything like before and couldn't hear enough of now. Then he caught himself. _Again. _He needed to stop thinking like this – how many times had he tried to tell himself? Well, it wasn't working. _You better **make** it work. She's not Narnian and therefore isn't available. _Ouch. His mind seemed to have a _mind_ of its own, one that delighted in digging in old wounds.

Unbidden, he thought of Velicia. He hadn't thought about her in a long while… that was by his own doing.

* * *

><p>Velicia had been the daughter of one of the Lords of the court. She had had the beautiful, dark Telmarine looks – dark eyes; thick lashes; long, black hair – and a spitfire temperament to match. She had a mind of her own, and that was one of the things that had drawn him to her.<p>

At first, it had been only her father dangling her about, thrilled at the idea of his daughter marrying the king. Caspian had put up with it, as this Lord was very respectable and he hadn't wanted to antagonize him. But after only a short while, he began to notice Velicia herself. She was a very intriguing individual, and she had seems to be interested in him, too. It had been a new feeling, and one that he had welcomed. They had spent many long hours together, just talking, just together.

For six months he had courted her, growing more and more convinced that he loved her and that she would make a strong queen. He had been considering going to her father to ask his approval when the unthinkable happened.

Velicia left.

She had disappeared, and all signs had pointed to a kidnapping. They had been frantic for a few days – both Caspian and her father. But after Caspian's head had cleared and he started to think things through, he realized that the so-called clues didn't add up. They were very clear… too clear. His suspicions were raised.

He had asked around until, finally, Velicia's timid chambermaid came forward. She hesitantly revealed that Velicia had plotted this all along, and had run off with a Lord from Archenland.

Velicia's father had been furious, and had fully intended to hunt his wayward daughter down and "talk some sense into her". Caspian had waved him off, still stunned. After that, the Lord resigned in disgrace. Caspian never found out where he had gone.

He had never found Velicia, either. It had been days before it sunk in – the woman he thought he was in love with had run away with anther man. The only consolation he could find was that he had found out what she was really like before he had asked her hand in marriage. He had felt like a fool for a long time…

* * *

><p>His heart had also felt the blow, and he had taken great pains to keep it safe. However, those precautions seemed useless when Abigail had shown up…<p>

Then again, if there was one thing he had learned it was that love was not made up of a feeling – a commitment, he had once heard it described. Just because his chest fluttered at the sight of her didn't mean he cared for her. _But …I'm starting to believe that I do…_

"Are you feeling all right?" He jumped a little.

"Oh – I'm sorry – yes; I'm fine," he answered a little awkwardly. "Why?" he hedged.

"Well, you just… you were quiet for a while, that's all." Abigail seemed sorry she had said anything. "I didn't mean to pry."

"You weren't prying." He managed a chuckle but then couldn't think of anything else to say; he couldn't very well tell her what he was really thinking about, could he?

"Caspian," Edmund whispered from his other side. "Lucy is falling asleep – I'm going to take her below."

"I can certainly manage going to bed myself, Edmund Pevensie!" Lucy crossed her arms, but the indignation of her words was dampened by a yawn.

Edmund smirked, but had a brotherly light in his eyes that only appeared when around his siblings. "I'm sure. In any case, I'm walking down with you." He held his arm out for Lucy and nodded to Caspian before leaving.

The silence that followed after brother and sister's departure had almost gotten to the point of awkward when both Abigail and Caspian spoke at the same time.

"I was –"

"Did you –"

Abigail gave a rather breathy embarrassed laugh. "I'm sorry – what were you going to say?" She cut him off when he tried to differ. "I insist."

"It's nothing… just, I wondered if you had siblings back home." He was only making simple conversation, but Abigail felt as if someone had shoved her off the side of the ship. Hadn't she just avoided this particular topic with Lucy? She could already feel a burning sensation in her throat. _Baby,_ taunted her inner voice.

To be safe, she allowed a quick, "No." _That sounded **awful**. Lighten up. _"What about you?" Her smile felt shallow.

There was just enough of a pause before he answered to let Abigail know that she wasn't fooling him. "No, no siblings. In fact, not much of a family at all – I never knew my mother, and my father died many years ago."

Abigail could feel her already thick emotions being piled with guilt. _And you think you're the only one with a sad story! _"I'm so sorry…that's horrible..."

"It's all right. I've had to live with that fact for many years… I've come to terms with it." Those words suddenly lit up; she recognized them from her own denial. _Are we both just going to lie? _

If she didn't say something now, she never would have to courage to bring it up later – it was the same feeling she'd had when she had thanked him for listening to her emotional breakdown. "What are you leaving out?"

Caspian seemed surprised at the sudden confrontation. "What are you talking about?"

"That's not how you feel about it. You're not saying everything." It was all she could do to keep her voice from trembling with nervousness.

Now he just sounded amused, and perhaps a little agitated. "I could say the same for you." _I know. Believe me, I know. _

Suddenly, something snapped. Whatever it was due to – her prior emotions, his evasiveness, or simply her just losing it – the burning sensation shifted from her throat to her head, clouding what was probably her better judgment. "All right – you want the truth? My parents were killed in the same accident that took away my sight. I'm _glad_ I have no siblings because if I did it would mean there would be other people like me, people who would have had to endure and live with the same things I have!" She gasped on the intake of breath that followed – partly because she had said this whole torrent with one breath, but mostly because of horror at what she had just dumped onto Caspian. "I – I am _so_ sorry. I can't believe that I just –"

"Don't be. I'm willing to bet that has been building up for a long time." Abigail just nodded mutely, still mortified at the biting words that had poured out of her mouth. "Here." Caspian gently took her by the shoulders and pulled her to a standing position so that she faced him. "My mother died giving birth to me. My father was murdered by my uncle who later tried to kill me. I too have never wished my fate upon any brother or sister I could have had." By the way he said the flippant words, Abigail could tell that they had hurt him every bit as her own words had hurt her. _I can't believe I made him think about those things – let alone say them! _

"I'm sorry – I don't usually have a temper, and I don't… You let me have my secrets, but I just dragged them out of you, and –" She stopped, unable to say anything more. _I have never said those things to anyone, and here I am spouting off to someone who was only trying to make conversation._

He surprised her by wrapping one arm around her shoulders. "You know," He started softly. "I should be thanking you. I think I needed to say those…things to someone."

Her throat clogged again. Suddenly, all she could concentrate on was how good it felt to have his arm around her.

* * *

><p>Abigail returned to her room to find Lucy sound asleep. She soundlessly crawled into bed, but found that she could not fall asleep to save her life.<p>

Caspian had just cradled her for a while before walking her back to her room. She still felt incredibly guilty for what she had brought on, but she felt oddly comforted at the same time. It was true – she had never said those things to anyone, not even Lucy, who had asked to hear them. What had made her tell them to Caspian? Even odder, what had made him respond and not just walk away in disgust?

It was a long time before sleep made its appearance.

* * *

><p><strong>You know what? I've worked it out (to the best of my non-exsistent math skills), and it appears that only about 1 in 30 people review. That's just messed up. *strikes Smokey the Bear pose* Remember, only <em>you<em> can change these statistics. **

**Again, I've posted a link on my profile - this time of Caspian (per SunnySweetRose's suggestion), so I can still call that a story illustration. :) Let me know what you think!**


	7. Days to Forget

**Chapter seven! This is one of my longer chapters; I hope that makes you happy (and therefore more likely to review...).**

**Speaking of reviews, you guys were fantastical last week. :D Firestorm Nauralagos, Lady Enigmatic, HeavensWeatherHellsCompany, Killerchoas, Eruantalon, DragonStar35232, SweetSunnyRose, AngelWeaselyxxx, AND chibimaker: WHOO! That is the sound of you being _awesome. _Keep it up!**

* * *

><p>The next day, the storm that had lingered on the horizon hit full force – one minute the sky was simply grey and threatening, the next, it was pouring.<p>

Abigail took to spending her days below deck; she was no use up top, and besides, she could just see herself being thrown from the deck by a torrential wave. She and Gael were together for most of the time, as Gael's father had adamantly instructed Gael not to venture on deck.

One evening, she was instructing Gael on a piece of embroidery. "See this loop?" Abigail fingered a thread. "You're going to pull the needle through here, and then make a row with cross-stitch, okay?" Gael nodded in earnest, and began to painstakingly guide her needle.

A soaking wet Lucy crashed through the door with a bang.

Gael shrieked and both she and Abigail jumped. "Sorry," Lucy said breathlessly as she breezed through the room. "I just forgot the – there it is!" She snatched something up and, still dripping, ran back out the door.

Abigail got up tiredly to close the door.

"Abigail?" Gael's tentative voice came from the corner.

"Oh, I'm sorry Gael – did you prick yourself?"

"No…It's just…the needle came unthreaded." Abigail sighed, but sat down to fix the problem. Gael had been making little mistakes like that all day. Granted, she was just a young girl, but Abigail was pretty sure she was just getting bored with the sewing; after all, it was all they had been doing for several days now. She also had the feeling that Gael would much rather be off with Lucy – she had come to idolize her and her fighting spirit. It wasn't that she didn't like Abigail (quite the contrary), but she seemed to prefer bravery and danger to stitchery and quiet.

"Gael, why don't you run and fetch that picture book?" Gael brightened immediately. The book was her favorite; while she still struggled with her reading a bit, she loved the illustrations and the story they told. Lucy had one read it aloud to Gael, and Abigail had happened to be listening. With Lucy's vivid storytelling style, she had painted the story of a dark grey dragon and his hoard captivatingly. Abigail thought the book might actually be a bit of history or Narnian lore.

Abigail made sure to extract a promise from Gael not to go anywhere but the study and back. Gael hurriedly nodded and then was off down the hall, her footsteps fading into the rain almost immediately.

Abigail, again, got up to close the door.

* * *

><p>Gael was sound asleep on the bed, the book still in her lap. The heavy rocking of the ship was starting to get to Abigail as well; she had dropped her fabric twice in the last few minutes. <em>Maybe I'll just rest my eyes for a moment…it's probably getting dark anyway…<em>

She opened her eyes to utter calm. There was no crashing of rain, no violent creaking from the ship. _Has the storm stopped? _She sat up and immediately realized that something was wrong. She was no longer sitting on the cushions in her room; instead, the ground felt cool and distant, as if it wasn't really there. She was having trouble breathing – the air was too sharp, too bitterly cold, and it stung her nose.

She could see an ugly discoloring around the edges of her vision. It wasn't part of her surroundings; it followed the boundaries of her view like a frame when she turned her head. She blinked hard, but the blue-yellow tint refused to fade. She rubbed at her eyes with her fingertips, but that only resulted a catalyzing a growing pain behind her eyelids.

Suddenly, the color leapt from the corners and sliced through the ground. Abigail choked from the sudden sulfurous air, and was thrown forward as the ground gave a violent shudder. She thrust out her hands to break her fall, and she stopped, but felt nothing beneath her hands. The ground had fallen away on both sides of her, leaving a jagged strip of the same bruised green color as her sight had been a moment ago.

Laughter bubbled from her right, fading and ringing out again, like a child skipping in circles. She turned and glimpsed people, sounds, and sensations that she knew to be Narnia. Lucy's laughter, Caspian's voice, and the _Dawn Treader's _creaking; the dampness of Coriakin's island in the early morning; the chilly breeze of night air, and frosty wood beneath her fingers.

On her left, there wasEngland– Mrs. Desmonds' solemnity and sharp tongue; the mustiness of her grey little room; the sensation of unending quiet and isolation.

There was no hesitation.

Abigail turned to go towards her friends and Narnia, but she stopped, suddenly gripped by the feeling she had forgotten something. Englandwas now calling with a new voice – there was familiarity, comfort… _No, there's not! There is nothing for you there! _It was her own voice, straining as if behind bars.

Lucy laughed harder and harder, Caspian was shouting something at her, and even the wind whistled insistently. As many timed as she tried to turn, she was whipped back around. The voices on either side wailed illegible cries. _Stop – stop it! I…I can't…_ Even her own mind was screaming.

Suddenly, it all stopped. The voices, the wind, everything.

_Can't make up your mind, can you, dear? _It was herself again, but her voice sounded distorted, musical; different somehow. _Ah, but you don't have to – it's already been decided._ The ground she stood on vaporized, the sickly greenish glow dissipated into sea of fog. She didn't plummet to the depths, but instead sank slowly into the haze. The voice took on a hideous shrieking tone, one Abigail knew wasn't her own. _You are to forever remain as you are…_Abigail's eyes filled with tears as they touched the mist. 

_Alone. _

Abigail sat bolt upright, spewing the pillows she had been sitting on around the room. Her breathing was jagged, and she really did have tears in her eyes. It took several minutes of deep breathing for her to reassure herself that she was back on the ship. Never before had Gael's breathing, the unremitting creaking, and the dull rumbles of the storm sounded so comforting. It was all she could do to drag herself into bed, still shaking and afraid to fall asleep again.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Abigail had gotten no rest whatsoever. She had tossed and turned, waking at the littlest thing – from Lucy tiptoeing in to Gael sighing in her sleep. Cracks of thunder made her sit up, gasping and sweating. The heart-pounding fear had stayed with her all night.<p>

When she fully awoke, it was still storming. She ran a ragged hand over her face, felling sticky and irritable. _All that over a dream? _She didn't even feel like getting dressed. Instead, she plopped back down on the pile of pillows she had left last night and draped a blanket over her lap.

"Good morning, Abigail." Gael must have woken up earlier.

"Oh – good morning. Has Lucy gone out already?"

"Yes. I don't know how late it is, though. It's just as dark and damp as it is during the night." Abigail had to agree. _How long has it been since I've felt the sun on my face?_ She quickly counted up the days since they'd left Coriakin's island. _Twelve days. _Twelve days she'd been holed up below deck, desperately trying to keep Gael occupied. She loved this girl, but there was only so much time you could spend in a few square feet with someone.

_Twelve days since I've spoken with Caspian… _She blushed to herself. It was true, though; she hadn't spoken with anyone besides Lucy and Gael since the storm had risen up. There was the occasional sailor coming to their door to bring food or news, but Abigail didn't know any of them, and hadn't said anything save for a thank you.

Abigail jumped as a commotion suddenly sounded from the hall. She heard Lucy, as well as Edmund. The door flew open with a bang, revealing Lucy shouting something at her brother. Edmund responded calmly but firmly.

"Sorry Lu – think of this as a reprieve. You've earned it."

"Edmund," Lucy pleaded, "_Please_. I'll be careful, I promise! Don't make me –" The door had already shut. Lucy spluttered and thumped down on a chair, muttering something unintelligible.

Abigail raised one eyebrow. "What was thatallabout?"

Lucy looked over as if just noticing the other two girls. "Sorry about that. Edmund _insisted _I come down here for a "rest"." She rolled her eyes. "He really just doesn't want me up on deck where I should be – helping."

"Oh really?" Abigail had a hard time believing that. "What prompted this sudden _insistence_? You were up there for over a week already…"

Lucy let out a resigned sigh and rolled her eyes to the ceiling again. "I might have sort of gotten knocked over by all the wind and water, and kind of almost flipped over the railing… again. I was fine, though, really!"

Abigail had to hide the grin teasing about her face. "I think he was just protecting you…besides, he's right about you having earned a rest – you've been up there helping with whatever it is you've been doing for days. I'm sure they will manage without you for a little while."

Lucy's sulky mood still had a good grip. "Fine. When we all sink, don't say I didn't warn you." She flopped dramatically onto the bed, but suddenly froze. "I should probably take off my wet clothes, shouldn't I?" She held up a corner of the quilt, which was already soggy.

Abigail lost it then, and a laugh escaped from between her tightly closed lips. "That's your side of the bed – why should I care if it's sopping wet?" She was rewarded with Lucy's wet cloak flung at her. She shrieked and held up a pillow in defence, giggling wildly, nightmares forgotten.

Tossing off her vest, Lucy grinned wickedly and proceeded to use her wet shirt to wring over Abigail's head. Abigail squealed and ducked, vainly attempting to shield her head with her arms.

"You know, I'll bet there's plenty of water in my boots, too…"

"AAH! No, you don't!" Abigail rolled to the side, clutching a pillow to her chest.

"Um, you two?" Gael piped up meekly from the table. Neither of them paid any attention; Abigail was feinting to the left, and Lucy was poised to attack. "There's someone at the door."

Both girls froze mid-action. Lucy yelped and held up a blanket in front of her. "Don't come in! Don't come in!" A chuckle came from the other side of the door. Abigail grabbed a pile of clean clothes and shoved them at Lucy.

"There. Go in the other room – go, go!" Lucy half ran, half tripped to the adjoining room, still holding the blanket with one hand.

Abigail, still wet and giggling, went to open the door. "Yes?" She asked, cracking it a few inches.

"Daddy!" Gael jarred the door wide open as she jumped into her father's arms. He laughed, catching her in a hug.

"Gael! Oh, I've missed you." He held at arms length to look at her face. "Have you been behaving yourself?" She nodded earnestly, causing Rhince to laugh again. He then addressed Abigail. "Thank you, for watching her all this time. I don't know what else I would have done." Abigail looked down and nodded, a small smile of pride warming her face. "The Captain has given me the day off to spend with Gael. Not that there's many places to go, but I just want to spend time with my daughter." He smiled down at the little girl in his arms. "Thank you, again, Abigail. I trust you'll find some time alone refreshing."

Abigail grinned half-heartedly and waved them off. "Go on then." She shut the door and wandered back to get out of her now-damp nightclothes. It still hurt to observe Gael and her loving father. And whenever she thought about it that way, she felt like a selfish wretch.

Looking past that, she couldn't be happier with the timing – she would now be able to get some time alone with Lucy, just the two of them. It felt like ages since they were able to just talk; at night, Lucy often came in after Abigail fell asleep, or, if not, they had to be very quiet when talking so as not to wake Gael. In short, she missed her friend.

After changing, she settled down cross-legged on the bed to work on her embroidery. Lucy joined her, wringing water out of her hair. She draped her torso across the bed, her legs swaying in the air.

"I don't know how you do it."

Abigail looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Needlework." Lucy waved at Abigail's work, giving a mock shudder. "I can't stand it. Susan had taken to making me learn how before she left for America– she said every "proper young lady" should know how to do it." She let out a decidedly _un_ladylike snort.

Abigail laughed. "That's exactly what _my_ teacher told me. However, I was thrilled at the idea of being a "proper young lady." I'm guessing that being said young lady doesn't excite you?" She raised her brow.

"Not hardly." Contrary to her words, Lucy didn't sound convinced. Abigail pausing in her sewing, giving Lucy a meaningful tilt of her head. "Not in that way. I…um…" Abigail stopped her fingers' movement altogether, regarding Lucy carefully. "It's just… Susan always had…callers. Even when she was my age. I just wish – I mean, it's not too much to ask for _someone_ to take notice of me. Even if I'm not a lady." She blushed furiously.

Abigail had never thought of Lucy worrying those kinds of things. Abigail certainly hadn't when she was younger… then again, Abigail had never conversed with a man her age before coming to Narnia. Perhaps she wasn't the best choice to be asking about matters of the heart. "Well, Lucy – I can't speak for outward appearances of course, but you are by far the most stunning person I've ever met. Someday, a gentleman will most blessed to have you by his side. And you will more than deserve it, trust me."

Lucy flushed with pleasure and gave a muted smile. "Someday seems a long way off."

* * *

><p>That afternoon, Lucy went above deck after promising Edmund she'd be careful. Abigail had contented herself to finish her sewing. However, once she was done with this pattern, she had no idea what she going to do – maybe she could put a little design on the corner of her vest. <em>By the time this storm passes, I will have probably sewn little swirly designs on every piece of clothing aboard this ship!<em>

There was a commotion at the end of the hall. _Lucy…Uh oh… _She left her sewing (a little annoyed at the interruption) and walked over to the door. She leaned against the doorpost, crossing her arms, listening.

"Lucy, you should know better than to have stood there like that." This wasn't Edmund – it was Caspian this time. Abigail sucked in her breath. She had forgotten how his voice made her ears tingle. And everything else, for that matter.

"How was I supposed to know –"

"Deductive reasoning, Lucy."

"I don't see you sending _Tavros_ down to his quarters," Lucy spat back.

"I doubt there's a wind strong enough to blow Tavros over." Like Edmund, he was perfectly calm (albeit a little exasperated) but very resolute.

"I still don't see what gives you right to send me down here like a child. You're not my brother, nor –"

"_King_," He reminded her, only half-teasing. "And besides, you should be grateful it's me and not Ed this time." He let the implications hang in the air.

Lucy refused to respond. Instead, she stalked into the room without another word. She shut the door behind her with such icy precision that she might as well have slammed it. "Abigail," she mumbled in acknowledgement.

Abigail nodded, but decided on waiting to speak with her until she cooled down. She heard Caspian sigh in the hallway. His footsteps started to recede, and she was suddenly seized by the urge to run after him. She hadn't seen him in days, and now he was just on the other side of the door. Then again, she wasn't at all sure he would appreciate that. _But I would…_

She made a quick decision. She flung open the door and stepped out, shyly calling his name.

He was already gone.

She stepped back inside, feeling the deep sting of embarrassment, as well as an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

* * *

><p><strong>Sooo... APPARENTLY the SPCA doesn't like me offering kittens as rewards for those of you who review. Fine. Gerbil, anyone? *gerbil squeaks*<strong>


	8. Disappointment and Regret

**Aaaand... a shorter chapter. Sorry, guys. Maybe, just _maybe, _I could be persuaded to update early this week... That all depends on your reviews. O.o **

**Reviewers! Lady Enigmatic, DragonStar35232, Firestorm Nauralagos, HeavensWeatherHellsCompany, chibimaker, and SweetSunnyRose: You all ROCK! Thank you _sooo_ much. **

**When I wrote this, it was actually raining like this - every night for over a week, it poured. There was this huge bolt of lightning that hit our garage and almost gave me a hernia. Ah, the sweet smell of inspiration...**

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><p>"Lucy, really!" Abigail frowned in concentration, once again straightening the covers she was trying to fold.<p>

"I'm sorry," Lucy moaned. "I'm just so bored!" Edmund had gotten wind of the near-accident a couple of days ago and had promptly seen to it that Lucy stayed below until the storm passed.

"Well, find something to do." Abigail was at the end of her patience; Lucy had been pacing non-stop since her, in her words, "banishment to the depths". "The storm can't last too much longer. After all, it's been almost two weeks."

"It's been too long already," Lucy grumbled. Abigail just rolled her eyes. Lucy hadn't even been down here for half the time Abigail and Gael had been. She would just have to tough it out.

"Lucy," Gael started, trying to pacify the situation. "Would you tell me the story of your first time in Narnia – of Aslan and the Witch?" Gael had heard the story many times before, but never tired of it. Lucy nodded agreeably, probably happy to have something to occupy her mind.

Abigail sighed with relief. "Do you mind if I go walk around for a while?" Lucy waved her hand in affirmation, already traveling deep into her story. Abigail quickly went to the door, feeling immediate relief when she stepped out. Right now, all she wanted was to get out of the stifling room crowded with two other bored girls. The air was cooler out here, and she was free to wander wherever she wished.

She had to sidestep buckets of water and the sailors that hurried past, but compared to her shared quarters it was almost peaceful. The ship rode the swells errantly and swayed with a vengeance, but Abigail soon adjusted to the rhythm, keeping a careful hand on the wall. She wished she could help in some way, but there was really nothing for her to lend herself to. _I'd just be in the way. In fact, I'm probably in the way right **now**, _she thought as she ducked out of the way of yet another sailor.

She found herself a secluded corner right beneath the stairs leading to the hatch. There was the occasional Narnian thundering up or sloshing down the steps, but it was relatively private. She settled on an overturned bucket, listening to the sounds of the storm. It was much louder here than in her cabin – the unrelenting rain beat down on the wood and dripped down the stairs; the thunder sounded as if it were ripping the heavens apart, the cracking traveling from one side of the sky to the other; on deck, the sailors shouted muffled commands and replies. A spray of water would periodically spurt through the grate and spatter on the stairs, misting her hair and her back. Salt permeated the air, making it feel much sharper than that of the air in the cabin. In short, it all felt wonderful.

The saline air seemed to clear her head, too. The heavy rumblings in the sky gave her a sense of awe, making her chest feel a little tighter. It wasn't quite fear… just wonder. She supposed it would be different if she were up on deck, battling the rain. It was also different in the cabin – the tempest was simply a nuisance. But here, sheltered but yet somehow fully open to the elements, the storm was spectacular.

"Abigail?" The voice made her jump more than any thunder had. However, she still had the presence of mind to know who it was – in fact, she was fairly certain she would recognize his voice anywhere.

"Caspian!" She stood quickly, happier to see him than she would have thought possible. "You scared me out of my wits! I didn't hear you coming."

He grinned, holding onto the beams above for balance. "I can't hear much either, what with this storm," he said, raising his voice slightly to be heard. "What are you doing up here?"

She shrugged, suddenly a little self-conscious. "I had to get out of my cabin for a while… I'm not in the way, am I? I can go somewhere else –"

"No, you're fine," he reassured her. "I was just surprised to see you, that's all. How have you been faring this…past week and a half, is it now?"

Abigail nodded. "It seems like longer, doesn't it? I've been all right, though – a little cramped, but okay. I'm just thankful someone thought to bring a needle and thread on board, or I would have lost my sanity by now!" Even muffled by the wind, his laughter had never sounded so good.

Caspian hadn't seen her in over a week, and there she was, right in front of him. He had been planning to dry off and get a brief rest – he'd been working through a better part of the storm – but now he was perfectly content to just stand there dripping if he could be with Abigail.

A dangerous thought, he realized, seeing as every day they sailed towards this blue star was a day closer to the day Abigail would leave, probably never to return. The thought made his head (or was it his heart?) ache. Perhaps he needed to try harder to distance himself… _As if I haven't tried._ If being kept away for twelve grueling days didn't do it, what would? "Well, I'm glad to hear you've not been bored to tears." He picked the conversation back up – carefully.

"Well…" She tilted her head. "Not to the point of tears; not yet. We'll see – it depends on how much longer this storm decides to keep up." She offered up a smile, an impressionable, delicate curve that softened her eyes.

He wasn't paying much attention to the skies when a blinding pattern of light flashed through the grate. A split second later, everything was drowned out by what sounded like thousands of cannons being fired at once – it was a wonder the hull didn't splinter. The thunder lasted for several moments, leaving his ears were ringing and his heart doubled in its pace when the sound ceased.

Abigail's eyes were wide and stunned. When the ship took a violent plunge, she didn't stand a chance – she lost her balance, crumpling to her knees with a gasp. He instantly reached for her hand, still keeping one of his own on the beam above. "Are you all right?"

She fumbled a bit, but then locked onto his hand. "I – I'm fine. That was terribly startling." Her breathing was still on the ragged side. "I'm fine now," she repeated as she pulled herself to a standing position. Even when she righted herself, he still kept his hand wrapped around hers, reluctant to let go. She didn't seem to be making an effort to pull free, either.

They were standing this close once before – that night when he had found her weeping in the hold. She had seemed so fragile, making him want to push away anything and everything that would dare come near her. He felt that protectiveness now, only intensified. She was close enough to kiss… It was not a question of whether he wanted to, only whether he would let himself. Was it just the rocking, or had she stepped a little closer? He wouldn't put it past himself to imagine such a thing.

If he stood there a moment longer, looking at her like that, he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Abigail heart was still racing, but it had nothing to do with the thunder. He was standing so close… and yet, not close enough. Part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms, or maybe even grab his shoulders and kiss him herself.

She wasn't bold enough for either, and she knew it. And hated it. She could only stand there, just hoping….

He slowly replaced her hand to her side, and let go. Her mouth parted faintly, but she quickly clamped it shut. _Foolish, fanciful girl. _She took a deep breath, willing her face to remain impassive. She barely heard him when he asked if she was ready to go back down.

"I'll leave you to your musing, if you like."

"No, I'll head down," she replied, a bitter smile gracing her face. The brilliance of the skies had suddenly lost its allure.

She stumbled several times on the way back to her cabin, but she resisted the urge to put her hand out and lean on his shoulder. Neither of them said anything, and the silence stung Abigail to the core. She didn't attempt conversation, though; if that was what he wanted, surely he would say the first word.

_You have no right to_ _be disappointed, _her mind censured. _But I can't help it!_ another part wailed. Again, she hardly noticed when he said goodbye, leaving her at her door.

She walked in slowly, pleading silently that Lucy would not question the surely obvious expression on her face.

"Are you… did something happen?" _So much for that. _

Abigail's jaw ached from clenching it. "I'm fine. There was some thunder that made me jump." _It's hard to sound normal when one is gritting one's teeth. _

"Was that Caspian who walked up with you?"

"You were watching out the door?" she snapped, plunking down on the bed she had so painstakingly made earlier.

"No," Lucy answered, sounding insulted. "I heard him. What happened?"

Abigail slowly rolled over to lie on her stomach. "Nothing." Her voice came out muffled by the pillow. _"Nothing at all," _she whispered to herself.

Caspian lay on the swaying hammock, staring at the condensation on the ceiling. The expression on Abigail's face after he had let her go… disappointment? Hurt? She had tried to keep her face emotionless, but, needless to say, it hadn't worked. Whichever the case, it had made him feel like a cad. He had felt even lower after she made no attempt to speak the whole walk back. Was it guilt? Well, no...

He wasn't sure whether it had been strength or weakness that had kept him from kissing her; strength at keeping his emotions at bay, or weakness in that he was afraid of what would ensue?

_It was probably the latter. _

He rolled over again, determined to get some rest before he had to return to his duties.

_Why, with all the danger that is looming over all of Narnia, does Abigail seem the most pressing matter? _

He groaned, flopping an arm over his eyes. Rest was just not going to happen.

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><p>Abigail dropped the sewing she was fiddling with for the final time. She simply couldn't concentrate. Lucy cast an inquisitive glance her way, but didn't say anything; she had been trying to get Abigail to talk all day, but Abigail had refused to say anything. <em>What is there to say, anyway? <em>

She kept telling herself that her despondent mood was just that: a mood that would pass, and then she could continue on as usual. But it had clung to her the better part of the day, and, now that night was approaching, the feeling was taking an even deeper root.

Unseen to all who were in the room, fingers of a sickly green haze wove around the ceiling. Oh, these children were easier than most! Each had deep-seated fears, ridiculous, marvelous fears, and it would enjoy drawing them out. Of course, it had always enjoyed toying with the fears of women (albeit these being young ones); they were always connected to the heart, and the heart was easily crumbled.

It slunk around the legs of the bed, waiting for their minds to succumb to the fragile state of sleep. The wails of those already in its grasp rang out with every turn, giving it strength. Soon, soon… they would give in. They always did.

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><p><strong>Last week, the gerbils were so popular, I gave them all away to you amazing reviewers. So, this time, I thought I'd try lemurs! *the sound of <em>I Like to Move it, Move it <em>can be heard from back room***

***pokes head in the door* YOU GUYS! I thought I told you to cut that out!**

**Sorry about that. Review, so I can get rid of these things! **


	9. The One

**Your wish is granted! This is for all the people who so kindly let me know that, yes, they would like an extra update this week. You guys made me tear up. **

**...for that matter, so did all the reviewers! Meaning: HumanAlien, chibimaker, DragonStar35232, thegleekofyourlife, and SunnySweetRose. Thank you!**

**This chapter, we start to see some heavily Christian-based thinking come out. If that's not your thing, I guess you can ignore this chapter and wait for Friday. **

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><p><em>Alone. <em>

Abigail awoke, the voiced still ringing in her head. _Not again! _Escaped tears mingled with the sweat on her face. For three days in a row she had awoken in the middle of the night like this, unable to go back to sleep. She felt Lucy stir beside her and she froze, hoping she hadn't woken Lucy up with her thrashing. Paying no notice to anything around her, Lucy rose and hurriedly went to the fire, throwing something in. The fire flared, spitting sparks all around. A roar echoed through the room, and then all was silent again.

"Lucy!" Abigail sat straight up. "What was that?"

Lucy froze as if suddenly flooded in a beam of light. "I – Abigail? What are you doing awake?" She tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the emotion brimming in her voice.

"Oh, Lucy," Abigail breathed, quickly slipping out of bed. She was careful not to disturb Gael, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She sat at the empty table and rested her forehead on the knotted, rough wood for a second. "What's going on?"

Lucy slumped against a chair, as if too weak to hold herself up anymore. "I don't…" She swallowed. "I don't know."

Abigail didn't either. "Well…" _Where to start? _"What was that roar I heard a moment ago?"

"You heard that?" Lucy sounded surprised. "I thought that was just meant for me," she mused quietly. She sighed and sat at the table as well, her arms hugged close to her chest. "That…was Aslan."

"Aslan," Abigail reflected. "What does He have to do with this?"

"Everything." Lucy's direct answer took Abigail by surprise.

"I don't understand."

Lucy took a deep breath, as if to calm herself. "He's the one who saved me… in my dream. He… I don't know how to say this," she huffed. "He's the one who saved me, all of us – He is the only thing that, well, that holds me together. Back home, too."

"Back home? Is Aslan in our world, too?"

"Of course. He's always there." Lucy seemed to be reassuring herself as well as Abigail.

"I don't understand," Abigail stated for the second time, feeling rather desperate. "You said he has saved everyone – I've heard the story of how He sacrificed Himself for your brother – why does he not resolve this evil? Why let such horrid things persist? Not just here – in our world, too. That horrid war, all the horrid, bloody things that go on…" Descriptive words were failing her at the moment. She stopped short, trying to get herself under control again.

"He doesn't let them go unchecked – that's why _we're_ here. For Narnia's sake, anyway."

"But… why, if he's as powerful as you say, does he need weak beings like us to do his will? Why not just take care of it Himself?"

Lucy shook her head. "That's not the way things work." She stopped Abigail when she started to speak. "Don't ask me why; I don't know why. I do know, however, that he gives us strength to do whatever he asks." Abigail's face must have betrayed her uncertainty, because Lucy added, "Trust me, Abigail. He will not ask us to do anything we don't have the strength for. It may not seem like it at the beginning, but in the end, we will look back and see we had it in us all along. That, and we'll see that the trials have given us strength to cope with future challenges."

"What about people who die? Did Aslan ask them to do that? Well, they weren't strong enough!" She didn't know where the sudden, angry lash came from. Bitter tears welled up behind her eyes. She wondered about her parents… what had they been called to do? Had they failed? She dashed at her eyes. _Of course not. Don't think that way. _

"There's a time when we all are called to die – it's not so bad. It's not punishment; they didn't do anything wrong. We may miss them, but they are in Aslan's country, and much happier; no more suffering, no more pain." Lucy's voice sounded far away, as if her mind was in this "Aslan's country" she spoke of.

"That's… it's not fair," Abigail sniffed, wiping her eyes brusquely. "Doesn't Aslan take _our_ needs into consideration before He takes away the ones we love?"

"Of course. If we love him, as He does us, everything He does will be for our gain. Like I said before, when we look back on everything, all the pieces will fit into place."

"But… it's not just the death and dying; what about us, when we have to leave Narnia and return to our world? What are we supposed to do with ourselves then?"

"We'll have each other," Lucy said softly, gently.

"You will. I'll be left on my own again, with all of this as just a memory." She swiped her hand around her, struggling to keep her eyes dry once again.

For a second, Lucy didn't answer. Then she replied in a tone that was equally soft as the one she had used before. "Don't be so sure, Abigail. I promise you – no, _He_ promises you – that you won't be left alone. Not here, not in our world."

"How do you…I mean, how do you know all this?" _You have such peace. I want it, too. _Abigail had longed for this kind of peace for a long time – could it really be in her grasp? Surely not. Lucy had known Aslan for years – she had been the queen of His nation, the one who believed in Him from the beginning. _I can't compare. I'm a mistake, anyway. Why would He help someone who isn't supposed to be here in the first place?_

Lucy smiled softly. "I love Aslan with all my heart and I want to know about Him. It…makes me feel closer to Him somehow, knowing what He's doing."

"Are these dreams from Him? Because I don't feel stronger. I don't know what I feel, but is certainly isn't 'strong'."

"No…He doesn't always cause things to happen. Sometimes He _lets _them happen."

"But you said He saved you – in the dream, anyway. What about me? I wasn't awakened by the triumphant call of a lion." Abigail felt very much the child here; despite her exuberance, Lucy was a very studious and contemplative girl. And right now, she seemed to hold all the answers.

"Were you looking for Him, Abigail?" The question pricked Abigail's mind.

"What?" she asked hesitantly, not quite sure what Lucy meant.

"Do you know Him? After all, it's hard to save someone who won't accept it."

"What are you talking about? Of course I know of Him – and I wouldn't refuse rescuing," She protested.

"No, Abigail – do you _know_ Him? Have you ever looked for Him; asked for His help?"

Abigail didn't respond right away, but took time to think. "No, I suppose I haven't… but…I…" She couldn't think of what to elaborate on.

"Just try it, Abigail." Lucy wore a small, knowing smile. "Everything is easier when you don't have to do it alone. And, unlike people, He's always there."

"The why does He wait? Why _is_ He waiting? He hasn't always been there for me." Abigail wanted to howl like a child again. That quick glimpse of peace was gone.

Lucy sighed. "What happened when… when you lost your parents, Abigail?"

"What?" Abigail asked again. She was confused by this sudden twist in conversation, and a little hurt Lucy would bring this up. She should know by now Abigail didn't like talking about it.

"Just…what happened?" She wasn't giving up.

"I was, um…" _What do I say? _"I honestly don't remember what happened… right afterwards…"

"Who took care of you? Someone must have," Lucy persisted.

"Well… yes; there was this woman – Mrs. Desmonds – who took me in. I've been living with her since." _Well, I **was** living with her… _

"See?" Lucy inquired.

"No." Abigail was blunt. She still didn't understand why Lucy was making her talk about this.

"What would have happened if you had been left out on the streets with no one to take care of you? You were just a little girl then, right?" Abigail frowned, but nodded. "Well," Lucy continued. "That was Aslan with you – even then, He was taking care of you. And now," she went on, gaining momentum. "He's still there, aiding you, even though you don't see it. Have you ever noticed how well you're able to walk? How you keep your footing even when we're in a strange place? How your hearing is so much better than anyone else's?"

"That's practice –" Abigail tried to interject, but Lucy shook her off.

"No, it isn't. You know it." Abigail sat back at Lucy's authoritative tone. Now that she thought about it – and she never really had – she could see that what Lucy was saying made sense. _Still – it's a lot to take in. I can't think about this now. Weren't you just a mistake a second ago? _her little voice wheedled. _And suddenly He's been _helping _you all along? Hardly. _

"I know you don't want to hear this," Lucy said softly, "But Aslan _has a plan for you_. He always did – and I think it's a special one. You have to be the most capable bli –"

_I _don't_ want to hear that. _"Lucy," Abigail started weakly, "I…I need to sleep. Thanks for talking with me, and, and…" She exhaled, unable to continue. Suddenly, all she wanted was just to be left alone. _Alone… _Her dream echoed in her head and her resolve wobbled. Wasn't that what she was most afraid of – being left alone?

Lucy touched her hand. "Just talk to Him, Abigail. Just try it," she repeated.

The mist slashed angrily around the ceiling. Everything had been going so well! Even after its grip had been weakened on the one child – curse the Great Lion – it had still held onto the other one quite nicely. All her fears and doubts… it was just so _easy_. But with all this talk of the Lion, it had been forced to let go and wait for its next opportunity. It decided not to waste time on the strong one… the one with the Lion by her side. Instead, it would attack the other's head with full force. No more subtlety. They sailed closer to its home every day… it was time to break them. Every…last…one.

Abigail crawled back into bed, feeling as if she had been broken to unrecognizable pieces. She desperately wanted to believe what Lucy was saying – and it made sense, it really did. She didn't know what was really holding her back… yes, yes she did. _It's my own fear and doubt. I hate it, but I can't stop._

She wrestled with her own mind until the sheets were twisted around her legs and her shirt clung to her back from sweat, despite the cool air. A couple of times she had considered getting up to walk around, but each time had been too exhausted to go through with it.

_Aslan…perhaps I should. _Slowly, hesitantly, Abigail pressed her disbelief to the side and whispered a quick prayer. She didn't know whether she had done it right, or if He would even listen, but it was her last hope; she simply couldn't face that dream again. _Not just the dream – the rest of my life. _She knew it was true. _Just tonight… maybe just this once, He'll listen. That's all I want._

The grey-green color of the world was suddenly shattered by a lion's roar. The cries and shrieks faded, and the ground turned to silver glass. A bright cavern appeared in front of Abigail, and her name was called quietly. She stepped forward and a deep, resonating voice became louder. She couldn't understand what it was saying, but she knew she should follow it. She walked down the path of light, not knowing where she was going, but sure she was doing the right thing.

Abigail rolled over, smiling in her sleep.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think, if I can fix anything, if you particularly liked something, if you had a bad hair day... Well, you can skip that last part, but, hey, you can tell me anything you want if you review! ;)<strong>


	10. Sunshine

**Another shorter chapter... Don't kill me, please! I promise, the length will return soon!**

**Hugs and plushies for HumanAlien, SunnySweetRose, and DragonStar35232. Thanks so much!**

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><p>When Abigail awoke, she was greeted not by roar of a lion, but by the roar of thunder. The warm feeling from her dream was fading rapidly. <strong><em>More <em>**_rain? This cannot possibly be natural. _She propped herself up on her elbows, letting her head tip back with a groan.

"Good morning," Lucy called from the table. "Gael and I have already finished eating – you slept in, and I…thought it would be good to let you." That vague hint was all the reference to their talk that she made all day. She seemed to know that when Abigail wanted to talk about it, she would. In the meantime, she was giving Abigail space to think.

Lucy attempted several tries at ephemeral conversation, but Abigail couldn't seem to concentrate. She gave yet another absent smile to something Lucy said, her mind unable to settle on one topic. Lucy regarded her carefully, seeming as if she were going to say something, but then closed her mouth. "I'm going to go see what Gael's up to. We'll be back soon." Abigail nodded, hardly noticing when Lucy went out the door.

_Why am I so distracted today?_ She rubbed her face with her palms stiffly. She wandered around for a second, but soon sank into a chair when her knees suddenly felt weak. She contemplated picking up her sewing, but she couldn't quite make herself pick up the needle. She tried to re-braid her hair to give her hands _something _to do, but the task soon proved futile; her hair was thick at the best of times, but with all the moisture in the air, it was curly and frizzy, making it impossible to work with.

She wrestled with it for a few minutes, and then threw down her hands, frustrated, dropping her leather tie in the process. She blew out an annoyed breath and dropped to her knees to search for it. _This is ridiculous.__ I should be feeling **happy** – Aslan answered last night. He did… then why do I feel as awful as I did the first time I had that dream?_

The floor was murky with a sickly haze. Despite its weakness in the daylight, it _had_ to keep a grip on the girl. That was not an easy task – not only was the horrid light beginning to break through the clouds, it had been given the scare of its life when confronted by the Lion last night. It was best not to dwell on that, though; it needed all its concentration for the girl. She wasn't naturally cynical, but that was merely a small wrinkle. She had enough doubts – _those_ it could woke with.

Abigail _still_ couldn't find the tie. She ran her fingers over the deeper crevices in the floor, hoping to find it there. _This is going to be one of **those** days…_ She bit her lip, trying not to let herself get too irritated. It was just a hair tie, after all.

A knock sounded at the door. Abigail jumped, cracking the side of her head against the bed. She yelped, clutching at her temple.

"It's open," she snapped, thinking it was Lucy, or perhaps Gael. Why they would be bothered to knock, she didn't know. The door creaked open slowly.

"I'm sorry – did I startle you?" _That's not Lucy._ Caspian stood, concerned, at the door.

Abigail hurriedly tried to right herself to a somewhat dignified pose. _Not an easy thing to do when one is sprawled on the floor…_ "I'm okay," she said unpersuasively. "You didn't startle me." _You're a terrible liar__._

"I see…" He, not surprisingly, didn't sound convinced. "May I ask what you're doing on the floor?"

Abigail hastily stood. "I dropped my leather hair tie. I was trying to find it," she explained.

He bent down, picking something up. He turned her palm upwards, and dropped the thin strap into it. "You mean this?" She nodded, flushing at his touch on her hand.

"Yes. Thank you." She gave him a smile. Her unpleasant mood was putting up a fight, but a small ray of sunshine was starting to break through. She was pretty sure that ray was named _Caspian… _She poked the inside of her hand with her nail. _Stop that, _she chided herself. "Oh – did you need something?"

"No; I just came down to let you know that the storm is passing."

"Really?" She sounded like a child who had just been offered a cookie. If _that _wasn't a ray of sun, she didn't know what was.

He laughed. "Yes, really. The clouds are thinning, and the rain is letting up. I thought I'd let you know. I know you're getting tired of living out your days down here." She could feel the smile in his words.

"Thank you!" Granted, he wasn't the one who had changed the weather, but nevertheless, she felt like throwing her arms around him. _I just might. _"When do you think I – we would be able to come up?"

"Well, you'll know when the rain stops, but it'll be pretty wet on deck for a while…"

"I don't care – sun is sun," she said eagerly. _This is exactly what I need._

Caspian smiled at her bright face. Who needed the sun when you had that smile to light up the room?

They exchanged a few more words before Caspian reluctantly admitted he had to go; he and Drinian had wanted to regroup now that the storm was showing signs of passing. "I'll see you later today, then?"

"Absolutely. Nothing could keep me away," she added with a grin.

_She's not talking about me. I know that._ He shook his head slightly, only because he knew she couldn't see it. He'd better leave now. "Well," he started. "I should get back up there…" He started to hedge towards the door when something on the table caught his eye. It was just a piece of cloth – probably extra sail material – but there was a striking design sewn into the center, the thread catching the light.

He paused, picking it up. "This is yours?" he asked, tapping it. She nodded shyly. Intrigued, he looked closer; there were such subtle intricacies he could scarcely believe she had sewn it with the coarse materials the ship provided, much less when she couldn't see it. He glanced back up at her face, which was turned towards the floor diffidently. "It's beautiful," he said softly. He wasn't really talking about the fabric anymore.

Abigail blushed, and rolled her lips to keep away the smile. His tone sent shivers down her back, but at the same time gave her a warm feeling around her heart.

Suddenly, he dropped the fabric on the table and hastily said goodbye. The door closed behind him before she could say anything. She was left there, just listening to the faint taps of his retreating footsteps. _Why does he do that? _It seemed to be becoming a habit, although only lately. She absentmindedly walked to the table and picked up the discarded embroidery. _Is it me? _She fiddled with it for a moment, then set it back down and sighed. _I wish I knew._

Caspian walked at a brisk pace through the hall, feeling like a coward. He had just been talking… it hadn't been this way in the beginning… he was being rude…

All these thoughts rolled around in his head, more tumultuous than any of the waves. He couldn't keep doing this – being around her, and then making a hasty retreat whenever he got too close… to what? To Abigail? He stopped and had to sit down. He rested his arms on his knees and his head in his hands. _Aslan, what do I do?_

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><p>That afternoon, Abigail suddenly stopped what she was doing and listened. <em>It's… it's not raining anymore! <em>The sea had calmed considerably, but there had still been an annoyingly steady drizzle of rain. Until now, that is.

"Lucy – Gael!" She exclaimed. "It's stopped raining!" Lucy looked up from her book and listened for a moment.

"You're right," she said excitedly. She quickly took Gael's hand and stood up. "Come on, let's go up." She was already halfway to the door.

Abigail laughed. "Wait for me!" She hurried after them.

Once on deck, Abigail felt she could cry – it felt so good to have the fresh air swirling around her and the watery sun on her face. _Aslan… if this is by Your doing, I don't know how to thank You. _She tipped her head back and breathed in a deep breath. Everything was wet and slippery, as Caspian had predicted, but it didn't bother Abigail one bit.

_Caspian… _She kept hoping to find him up there, but he didn't appear. She felt oddly disenchanted, but told herself it was probably for the better; he seemed to be trying to avoid her – who was she to wish for the opposite?

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><p>Abigail reluctantly closed the door to their room. She and the other girls had stayed out as long as they could, but once it got dark it had gotten too cold to stay out any longer. Even here in the cabin it was chilly.<p>

She slowly began to ready herself for bed, hoping tomorrow would be rain-free. The violent storm was gone, but the clouds still remained highly suspect.

She let her hair down, smiling faintly as her fingers touched the leather tie. The entire time she was up on deck, she kept expecting Caspian's voice to surprise her from behind. It never did. She knew he had mentioned that he and the captain were planning to "regroup" (whatever that meant), but he had gone out of his way to speak to her before… _Well, apparently things have changed. I don't know what the new rules are, but you need to stop expecting anything from him. It will make it easier when you have to leave, anyway. _

Abigail tried not to think about leaving, but there were times when the topic was unavoidable. She determined that now would _not_ be one of those times; her day had been wonderful – for the most part – and she wouldn't ruin it now by thinking of the day when it would all have to end.

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><p><strong>I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but... *gets to my knees* Please review, I beg of you! Seriously, even if you just drop a two word note, it lets me know that this is worth someone's time besides mine. <strong>


	11. Butterfly Kisses

**I think this chapter is my very favorite... *waggles eyebrows* Perhaps this will make up for the painfully short last few chapters? ;)**

**I commend and hand out cookies to: HumanAlien, DragonStar35232, Lady Enigmatic, chibimaker, SunnySweetRose, Firestorm Nauralagos, and a very kind annoymous reveiwer. I hope you guys enjoy this! And the rest of who who _didn't _review... well, I hope you enjoy this so much that it inspires you to review. :)**

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><p>Caspian rubbed a hand to the back of his neck. His eyes were bleary from poring over maps and charts all day. Now that night had come, Drinian had lit a single rheumy candle, and the poor lighting was only adding to the monotony.<p>

"Caspian?" Drinian prodded from the other side of the table.

Caspian shook his head in attempt to clear it. "Hmm?" He answered without actually saying anything.

Drinian began to roll up the current map. "I think you should call it a night, Sire." He clapped a hand to Caspian's shoulder. "You haven't been paying attention for the past hour."

Caspian knew he should protest; insist that they finish. But in actuality, he was relieved, and couldn't wait to just sink into his hammock. He nodded and let Drinian gather up the notes they had written out. "Thank you," he sighed. "I'm terribly sorry. We'll finish this up tomorrow?" he asked slowly, already blinking heavily

Drinian nodded. "You need a good night's sleep – you're not of use to anyone when you can't think straight." He spoke as a friend rather than the captain.

Abigail paused in braiding Lucy's hair. Gael had fallen asleep a while ago, but Lucy had begged Abigail to put her hair up for the night, insisting that she wanted something different and that she couldn't do it herself. Abigail had doubted that the latter statement was true, but she didn't object, as it felt good to have her hands busy. During their long days below, she had tired to experiment with Gael's hair, but Gael had grown very quiet and finally confessed softly that her mother had always loved to run her fingers through her daughter's hair. Abigail had felt terrible, and hadn't attempted to touch it since.

"Lucy… now that the storm has passed, what do you think will happen?"

"What do you mean?" Lucy tilted her head up in effort to look up at Abigail.

Abigail fumbled with and then dropped the half-finished hair. "Don't move your head. Now I have to start all over." Once she had gotten Lucy's hair under control again, she rephrased her question. "I mean, what happens now? Does anyone know where we are, or when this blue star might be spotted?"

Lucy started to shake her head, but stopped herself when Abigail gave a warning tug. "I don't really know… I believe we're low on supplies, so we'll probably stop on the next body of land we come across, regardless of the whereabouts of the blue star."

Abigail blew a breath out through her nose. It was all so frustrating – even though the storm seemed to have passed, there was still yet another tedious stint of waiting ahead of them. She didn't say anything, but finished Lucy's hair in silence. "All done," she reported, tying it off with a piece of leather similar to her own.

"Thanks," Lucy said thoughtfully, reaching up to run her hand over her drawn-up hair. She stood, then paused before turning around. "We'll get through this, Abigail." She gave a half-smile. "Trust me, one of these days you'll be wishing for this peace-filled time."

She left Abigail to ponder this.

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><p>Abigail awoke the next morning to utter silence. No one seemed to be awake. The stillness of the air was almost unsettling – but not quite. More captivating than unnerving, like standing in whiteness of new fallen snow. She sat up, careful not to disturb the other girls. She didn't think it was the middle of the night; the fire had burned down to dull, throbbing embers. She crawled over Lucy, and slid off the edge of the bed. She decided to go up on deck and see what – if anything – was going on, seeing as there now was no chance sleep.<p>

She donned her clothes and boots and crept to the door, but when it was opened, a wall of cold air that had built itself up against the wood crumbled down and danced around her ankles. Lucy made a small noise in her sleep and rolled over, tightening the blankets around her chin. Abigail quickly shut the door and retrieved a blanket that was loosely folded on a chair. She hugged it around her shoulders and attempted the door again. This time, the cold air swam straight to her face, and she had to blink to wet her eyes. She shut the door hastily behind her.

Up on deck, the air was sharp and bright as well as cold. Abigail's nose was cold within seconds, and, though she tried to tuck them into the blanket, the tips of her fingers were glaringly icy. However, she could feel the sun barely reaching its fingers of warmth through the pale swath of clingy clouds, and she knew it wouldn't stay cold for long.

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><p>Caspian woke up with his neck still feeling sore. He sighed, pushing himself up on the heels of his hands. He rolled his head to the side, and was rewarded with a satisfying <em>crick<em>. _That's a terrible habit, _he thought to himself absently and …out of habit.

He took in the morning. The portholes revealed that it was barely light out. The bitter cold strengthened his thought that it was very early. He groaned and flopped back down, determined to go back to sleep. He laid there for several minutes before having to resign to the fact that he wasn't going to get any more sleep. He had been so tired the night before – why wasn't he able to sleep in later this morning? Regardless of his mental protesting, Caspian pulled himself out of the hammock. He instantly regretted it, nearly diving back under the covers when the cold took full grip. He slapped his hands together, and then rubbed his upper arms. Maybe getting out in the sun would help… He might as well go up on deck; the majority of the crew would be awake soon enough, and there would be work to do.

Once on deck, it didn't seem to be any warmer. If anything, the breeze was even colder. _Well, the sun is coming through the clouds, anyways. Or rather, it's starting to, _he corrected himself, estimating that the sun would begin doing its work in less than an hour.

He walked to the helm to check with the crewman on night duty there; he may as well put himself to some sort of use. When asked, the man in charge of the current shift assured him that all was running smoothly, and that there had no problems. While he was glad to hear it, Caspian now felt listless again. He bade the man farewell and walked back down the stairs slowly, watching the rigging move in its usual taunt sway. _This is ridiculous. _Last night he had been fatigued with all there was to be done, and this morning he couldn't seem to find anything to do!

Vaguely, he wondered if Drinian was up and about. Probably – the man woke with the sun every morning without fail. But as he scanned the deck, he didn't see the tall, commanding figure anywhere. He had just resigned to go below and look for Drinian in the study when someone else caught his eye.

Abigail sat tucked nearly out of sight beneath the stairs. She had chosen a spot out of the way, though there didn't seem to be very many sailors walking about at this hour. There was little shelter from the biting breeze, and she was very glad for the blanket around her shoulders. She sat listening to the creaking of the ship mingled with the wind slithering through the wood, and her hands played with an intriguingly frayed edge of her blanket. She leaned against the smooth, cool for a moment before hearing footsteps walking towards her. She tucked her feet in the let the sailor pass, and prepared to nod cordially at them.

"Well then, what are you doing up at this hour?" _It's Caspian – I…_She pushed the inexplicable excitement in her heart down. She wasn't going to react that way anymore, she told herself; he wanted distance, so she would comply.

She put on a small smile, trying to keep her feelings at bay. "I woke up early, and thought I'd pass some time up here." She gave a small shrug. "I don't know how long I'll stay here, seeing as it's so cold, and I don't want to be in the way when people start working, and –" She caught herself prattling on. _This is too hard. I can't keep this up. Oh, yes you can, and you will. _She was one hundred percent prepared to grab her little voice be the ear and toss it somewhere it would never see daylight again. Now, to find that ear…

Caspian nodded indistinctly, and just stood there for a moment. "Why do you never stand by the railing?" He asked the question so suddenly that Abigail was thrown off a little. She fumbled for an answer.

"Well… I don't really know. This is the only time I've been on a ship, and I guess I'm just scared of the edge – or rather, of falling off it." She laughed hesitantly, having a slight feeling that she knew where he was going.

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, then he smiled slowly. "Here – come with me." He offered his hand, but she kept hers where they were.

"What?" She felt a genuine smile creeping in against her will. "I'm not going over there, if that's what you mean."

"Of course it is. Come on; just let me show you."

She gave her head a quick shake. _No. _She didn't want to go, and she didn't need to. _He's teasing me, I'm sure. _

No, he wasn't. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. She resisted, the blanket shed from her shoulders, but a smile played constantly around her lips. It was hard not to smile, in spite of the nervous knot in her stomach. Whether that was from the thought of standing by the edge or by his hands, she didn't know.

"Trust me." She bit her lip, and finally nodded. She followed him with trepidation over to the railing. A few feet short, she stopped.

"I… I don't think I want to…" _…to go any further. _She didn't voice the rest of her thought, feeling very foolish.

"Yes, you do." He reached back down and took her hand firmly in his, and gave a gentle tug. She reluctantly followed, wondering how she'd let him charm her into doing this.

Now, she stood on the edge, and she tightened her grip on the railing with her free hand. The water made lazy slapping sounds beneath her, and the wind flowed unchecked across her skin. As she carefully relaxed, she did realize that it really was beautiful, facing all the open space.

She felt his hand start to pull away, and she impulsively tightened hers. "Don't let go." She didn't want him to… for several reasons. The foremost was that she didn't feel safe without someone to hold onto. The second… the second was something she couldn't delineate. She let out a breath of relief when he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"If you like." Something in his voice… what was he really saying? _Now then, I thought you'd promised not to think like that. _Abigail decided to stuff her little voice in a box. She might regret it later (as her inner voice was usually telling her things she felt she should know), but she couldn't bring herself to let go. _Please, can I have this moment, just this one, to myself? _Whether or not his intentions were what she thought them to be, she would forget about it all for now, regardless of the impending heartbreak.

Caspian watched her face as it changed from unease to delight. He smiled. "There now. Happy to be over here?"

Her eyes shone as she tipped her head back into the breeze. "Oh yes." A smile tinted her cheeks. He wasn't quite sure why this meant so much to her (after all, how different could the railing be from the center?), but as he watched her shining face, he knew he would do it again if he could. Just to hear her to beg him not to let go, just to have her there. He had prayed to Aslan to help him, to show him what to do – was this the answer? Just maybe… then again, how could it be? She would return to her world, and he would return to his kingdom. There was no contesting those facts…was there? All those questions… if only he could make up his mind.

Abigail took one last deep breath. She didn't know why the air felt so different here. Maybe she really was closer to the ocean, maybe it was the early morning, or maybe… maybe it was the young man standing next to her, affecting her senses. She guessed the latter. "I should probably go back down to the cabin, or I'm going to lose my nose to frostbite."

He laughed. "Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" His finger lightly tapped the tip of her nose. She blinked at the butterfly-like touch, then smiled. Her cheeks tingled, and she was sure she was blushing. Then again, her cheeks were already tingly from the cold, so she couldn't be certain about that.

"Absolutely not. I like my nose right where it is."

His smile deepened. "I do too." The butterfly feeling transferred to her stomach at the slight shift in his voice. Whatever resolve she may have had dropped to the floor, forgotten.

"I – I should get the blanket before I leave." She stumbled over her words, suddenly nervous.

"All right, then. We'll get it." His tone still held the same deepness it had a moment before, sending a shiver behind her neck. He never let go of her hand as they walked back under the stairs. When she wriggled free to pick up the throw, her hand felt cold in more ways than one.

She fumbled with the thick blanket, folding it just to stall for time, though she didn't know why. She hugged it to her chest when she was done, and turned to find Caspian standing much closer than he had been before. It was suddenly very, very hard to breathe. "Caspian?" She whispered him name; a question, but at the same time an invitation.

His knuckles lightly brushed her jaw, carefully and with great gentleness, as if she might break under his touch. She felt as if she just might. "You know," he said, so close and his voice so low that she could feel the vibrations, "I want to apologize for avoiding you." She couldn't have answered even if she knew what to say.

Then he cupped his hand to the side of her face, and kissed her.

She nearly let go of the blanket she was clutching with both hands. It was the lightest touch, the most delicate of feelings. A most wonderful moment – a moment she would never be able to put into words.

He pulled back all too soon, and just watched her face, searching her eyes. _Well, if that's how he apologizes, I suppose I should say thank you. _She dropped the blanket to the ground, and took the sides his face in both hands. With that, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him herself.

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><p><strong>Well? Cm'on... *knocks on the screen* I know you guys are out there... Do me and my internal editor a huge favor and REVEIW! <strong>

**By the by, there is an illustration for this chapter up on my profile - you have SunnySweetRose to thank for that. :)**


	12. A Reminder

**Whoa! The amount of feedback I got from the last chapter was _incredible_! Give youselves a big hand: sarcasmwithasmile, Lady Enigmatic, erulasse, HumanAlien, Lilly The Jade Fury, thegleekofyourlife, Naginatastar, Firestorm Nauralagos, Yukira-Kuchiki, HeavensWeatherHellsCompany, chibimaker, DragonStar35232, RainbowHeart17, aliceangel21, AND SunnySweetRose! Amazing, you guys! Thank you! **

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><p>Abigail's boots hit the hot, unyielding sand. She yet again fought the urge the kiss the solid ground. The ship was bad enough, but the little boat… <em>I still have no idea what that thing is called. I don't care. The less I know about that awful mess of wood, the better. <em>

She quickly moved out of the way to let other people on shore. She took a deep breath, all the while taking in her surroundings. It was hot, barren, and the air smelled slightly sulfurous. Abigail disliked the island immediately. _Ugh. I hate heat…I also hate sand. We are not off to a promising start. _

They had spotted the mountainous island early that morning, and now, early afternoon, had landed and were about to commence searching for the supplies they desperately needed. That, and Caspian had thought it a good idea to look for signs of the lords who might have stopped here.

Speaking of here, it seemed that no one knew where 'here' was. Drinian knew nothing of the islands beyond the magician's, and if he didn't know, well, according to everyone on board, nobody knew. _I guess we're all about to find out._

After several minutes, it was decided that the three royals would search for clues as to the missing lords, and the remaining crew would scavenge food. Abigail was content to stay on the beach with Gael; after hearing some mysterious hissing and grumbling from the core of the island, she had no desire to go wandering about. That and she had already tripped on the rocky shore several times and didn't care to find out if there were bigger rocks inland.

She and Gael made themselves useful by sorting the assorted food into various baskets. Abigail didn't recognize any of the pants being pressed into her hand, but she trusted that the Narnians would know what was edible and what was not. _Then again… _she thought suspiciously as she picked up a spiky gourd, _I'm not eating this one. _

She heard the scuffle of rock scrubbing against cloth. Eustace rose from the boulder he had been sitting on, his arms crossed. He sighed, and, after sneaking a few guarded glances to the side, began to slink away, grouching to himself. He didn't seem to be up to anything, so Abigail didn't feel the need to say anything. He was probably just in a mood again, and perhaps a walk would do him good.

She reached for the next specimen (she couldn't quite think of the odd plants as food), only to feel coarse sand beneath her fingers. "Is that all?" she asked to no one in particular.

Rhince answered from where he was coiling a length of rope. "I'm afraid so. This sand isn't particularly fertile."

Abigail sighed and sat down heavily. "Well, that's not much," she said softly. The sand was almost uncomfortably hot, but it was more uncomfortable to stand the whole time. Gael wandered over to her father, leaving Abigail to her thoughts. She lifted her hair off the back of her neck, trying to cool off a little, and let her mind drift.

She could hardly think about Caspian without getting a fuzzy feeling in her head. Yesterday, they hadn't said anything after…after they'd kissed. They hadn't needed to. But now… Abigail didn't know what to say to him. He'd been himself the whole time, and she wouldn't want anything else. But had anything changed? Did she want it to?

After she'd bumped into Lucy that day, Lucy had commented on how Abigail looked as if she were floating on air. She'd brushed it off by saying that she'd just woken up in a good mood. She couldn't bring herself to talk about it, not even with Lucy. It felt too special, too delicate. She was afraid that if she put the experience into words, it would somehow disappear. _Now, see, you've gotten your butterflies all excited. _Her inner aerials leapt in time with her thoughts. _Breathe. No; correction: think about something else so you **can **breathe._ She made herself do just that.

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><p>It seemed to take hours for the others to get back. In fact, one boat had already departed, returning most of the crew to the <em>Dawn Treader. <em>Abigail was hot and bored, but she didn't want to go back to the ship quite yet. Gael's father had taken his daughter back on the first run; the little girl was getting tired and her cheeks were pink from the sun.

So Abigail sat on the beach, tracing patterns in the sand. She had begun to wish she had gone back to the ship when she finally heard footsteps approaching. She stood hastily, brushing her hands together. "There you are! What took so long?"

There was an odd silence. Lucy finally spoke up, giving a small, wan smile. "We… got caught up in something. We're back now." Neither Edmund nor Caspian said anything.

Something was very wrong.

"Did you find anything?" Abigail pressed a little further.

"Yes – another sword." Lucy was the only one doing any talking, and even she had an anomalous edge to her voice.

"Well then," Drinian said. "If that's all, we should be leaving, your Majesties." Caspian nodded brusquely, and began to talk in low tones to the captain regarding supplies."Wait – where's Eustace?" Edmund finally spoke up.

"Well, he certainly _wasn't _around to load the boats," Reepicheep commented dryly from his perch atop one of the baskets.

"No," Abigail mused, suddenly remembering his earlier departure. "He wandered off."

Edmund let out an annoyed huff. "I'll go look for him. It's just like him to go skulking around at a time like this…" he grumbled to himself as he started to turn around.

"Wait," Caspian said, "I'll go with you." Another moment of tense silence. _All right, I have _got_ to find out what is going on here. _

"Me too." Both of them stopped and turned to look at her. "Take me too," she insisted. "I'll help you look."

"No, Abigail." Caspian's low voice took her by surprise.

"What? What do you mean, 'no'? I know which way he walked – I mean, I heard him go –"

"Stay here." The sharp finality in his voice hurt. She'd never heard him speak like that – not to her, not to anyone.

She stiffened. "Fine. Just in case you wanted to know, he went that way." She pointed brusquely to one side.

And they walked away. No apology. Nothing at all. Abigail plopped back down to the ground, crossing her legs. She had to fight to not cross her arms. _No sense in acting like a child, is there?_

Lucy sat beside her. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Not your fault." Neither of them really wanted to talk, so they didn't. Abigail let sand trail from her fingers, feeling as if everything, like the sand, was rapidly – and unexpectedly – falling apart. _I think I hate this place. _

It was only a short time before footsteps again were approaching. _Two, _Abigail thought with a sinking feeling. _Only two people coming. _

"Didn't you find him?" Lucy asked, sounding worried.

"No." Edmund spoke with a clenched jaw "Eustace is gone."

"Gone?" Both Lucy and Reepicheep asked at the same time.

Abigail shook her head slightly. "Didn't you find anything? I'm sure –"

"Eustace is dead!" he erupted suddenly, throwing a smoldering journal at their feet.

"What?" she whispered. _That's…that's not possible. He can't be… _Lucy seemed to be in shock beside her as she slowly picked up the journal, turning it over in her hands.

"And you just let him wander off!" Edmund shouted, his voice strained.

Abigail scrambled to her feet, her head muddled. _Eustace is dead? _"This is not my fault!" Her voice was tight.

"You could have –"

"Edmund, leave her alone." Caspian broke in now.

"This is no one's fault," Lucy said, standing up. Her voice was brimming with tears as she reached out to touch her brother's arm.

Edmund opened his mouth to say something else. He looked down at Lucy's hand, clamped his jaw shut, then spun on his heel and stormed up the beach. Caspian quickly took off after him.

Abigail groaned and rested her head on her knuckles. _Everything is all wrong. The whole world has turned upside-down. _

_Eustace is gone. _

_I let him walk to his death._

_I hate this place._

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><p>Caspian jerked Edmund's arm, forcing him to stop and turn around. Edmund whipped to face him, pain contorting his face.<p>

"Edmund, come on, this isn't going to solve anything…"

Edmund just sneered at him. "You're one to talk. Never lost your temper, have you?"

Caspian blew out an angry breath. He didn't want to argue anymore, but a hazy red – or was it pale green? – streak clouded his vision once again. "Edmund, let's go."

"What, you're trying to order me around again? That worked well last time."

His jaw clenched. "I'm shouldn't have to give orders to you. You should know better!" He didn't see Edmund's hands coming from below until they slammed his shoulders, almost knocking him over. Caspian grabbed his wrist, furious. "Get control of yourself! You don't think we understand? You don't have to take it out on the rest of us!" Edmund started to say something, but Caspian was already rolling on. "You had no right to yell at Abigail like that. She didn't deserve –"

"Oh, so that's what's it's about? _Her? _All you see is that pretty face and you can't think of anything else, you, you –" He stopped and jerked his wrist, glaring.

Caspian let his hand fly up as he let go. "Don't," he snapped. "You can think what you will, but you need to grow up."

Edmund spun around, obviously not talking anymore. Suddenly, Caspian saw Edmund's eyes clearly in his mind. He had just lost a relative; he was hurting. A soft, still, and slightly disappointed voice broke through his head. **_He's feeling a pain you know too well. _**

_What have I done? _"Edmund…" He tried to call after him. "Ed," he tried again after Edmund didn't turn around.

Suddenly, there was a much more urgent reason to call his name. "Edmund!" he shouted, picking up his pace. Finally, Edmund turned, his eyes burning even at this distance. Too late.

The great beast swooped down, snatching Edmund up. "No!" Caspian gave a few running steps, only to see them shrink in the distance. _What is wrong with this island? _

He ran in the direction of the shore.

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><p>Caspian arrived out of breath, his voice strained. "Edmund's…he…he's gone!"<p>

"_What?" _Lucy cried. He leaned over and nodded, then rapidly shook his head, realizing how that must have sounded.

"Yes…but…" He heaved a few more breaths. "We can still search for him. I think we can…"

That same leathery flapping. "Get down!" _The thing must be returning for more. _The girls dropped to their knees, but not before he saw the strange look on Lucy's face. He frowned. "Lucy, what's…?" The rest of the men were looking past him with the same expression. He slowly turned around.

The dragon had landed, and Edmund was walking beside it.

"Edmund!" Lucy ran forward. Caspian reached out to stop her.

"Wait, Lucy!" Lucy didn't stop, but ran straight to her brother's arms.

After catching her, Edmund put his hands up. "It's all right. Everyone… this is Eustace."

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><p>After the initial confusion that followed – was this really Eustace, how did they know, and should they trust him? – they were now deciding what to do about Eustace's… predicament.<p>

Abigail still couldn't believe that the cool-scaled dragon standing before them was Eustace. Despite her curiosity, she kept her distance, more than a little wary.

"Well, we can't bring him on board."

"We can't leave him here!"

"Aunt Albertawill _not_ be pleased." It was a relief to hear the dry humor back in Edmund's voice. Though he was a little more at ease, he and Caspian hadn't spoken a word to the other, and seemed to be avoiding each other. That made things a little uncomfortable, or so it seemed to Abigail.

Caspian sighed. "We'll stay the night here on shore, and figure out what to do in the morning."

"But your Majesty," Drinian argued logically, "You have no means of staying warm."

Eustace quickly looked around, probably a little frantic at the possibility of having to spend the night alone. Suddenly, he gave a roaring breath, flame sprouting from his throat. Abigail jumped, taking a few rapid steps back. A piece of driftwood burst into flame, and Eustace licked his lips with satisfaction as the others all gave laughed lightly. It was decided – they would spend the night here. Drinian and a few of the sailors took the boat, promising to return at first light. Remaining was Caspian, Edmund, Lucy, Abigail, Eustace, Reepicheep, and three other Narnians.

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><p>Abigail couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the sand, maybe it was the snuffling from Eustace-the-dragon, but she was pretty sure her restlessness was from the stress of the day.<p>

She rolled over again, digging her elbows into the sand in attempt to make the ground more comfortable. It wasn't working. There was a thin blanket beneath her, but it was no help at all whatsoever.

Suddenly, she stopped and listened. Someone on the other side of the fire stirred, and let out a sigh much the one she had given earlier. They stood up quietly, and walked a little ways toward the water. After just a few steps, they settled down against a boulder, sitting heavily.

_I know who that is. _She didn't know how, she just knew. Slowly and soundlessly, she stood and traced Caspian's steps.

She stopped at the smooth boulder and leaned forward, resting her hands on it. "_Caspian," _she whispered. He jumped slightly, turning his head and straining to see in the dark.

"Abigail – I'm sorry; did I wake you?" he asked, his whisper just as quiet as hers had been.

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't sleep." She motioned to the rock beneath her hands. "May I sit down?"

"Of course." His voice was already fading, as if he was thinking of something else. She swung her legs over the rock, her knees level with his shoulders. She just sat there for a moment, and she could almost feel him thinking. The waves lapped gently and methodically on the shore, giving a quiet backdrop to the cool night. Finally, she had to ask.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh…" He shifted against the boulder. "Nothing really. Just couldn't sleep; this place isn't exactly friendly." Well, she understood that completely, but she didn't believe him.

Emboldened momentarily, she asked slowly, "What happened today? Why is everyone on edge?"

He didn't answer right away, but instead ran his fingers through the sand, which was still warm, even in the darkness. "There is something evil here… I don't understand it. We…" He crossed his arms and tipped his head back. "When we found the lord – and his sword – he had fallen into this pool…" He continued the story of what happened in the cavern. Abigail was completely silent. She knew every word was true; she could hear it in his voice.

"And then… I don't know what happened. I don't know why I snapped like I did. I know I never want to feel like that again, though. I can have a bit of a temper when I'm provoked just right, I know that. This… this was different. And it happened twice."

_So that's why he and Edmund are at odds. _She felt awful, a deep pit of empathy in her belly. She bit her lip, and slid down the rock to sit next to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered after a moment, not knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry you had to get caught up in this."

"I don't think I'm the one you need to apologize to," she said gently.

Caspian stiffened at her words, but then let out a sigh. He was too tired to fight anymore, and certainly he didn't have it in him to get angry with her. Not when she was just trying to help. She was probably right, anyway.

She drew up her knew and propped her chin up in her hands. "You know," she murmured, "this island isn't quite so bad at night." She smiled tentatively at him. "Lots of things don't seem nearly as bad once you have time to get used to them."  
>He laughed lightly. "You mean me getting used to the idea of swallowing my pride and apologizing to Edmund?"<p>

"Well…" She leaned back, wrapping her arms around her torso. "If you put it that way."

He sighed in affirmation. "All right, then. I'll do what I can to clear the air."

"Don't do it for me." She reached over and tapped his chest, lightly and very quickly. "It's for you." She added in low undertone, "And for Aslan. It's what He would want."

Those words stopped him from thinking about anything else. _Of course. Of all the things to forget, and I forget about the One who can fix this. _He looked down at his hands. _It shouldn't take someone else to remind me. _"Thank you," he whispered. Abigail didn't answer. Her eyes had drifted closed. "Hey," he said gently, touching her shoulder.

She blinked, her chin jumping back up. "Mm?"

He smiled. "You should get some sleep. You look like you need it."

She closed her eyes and nodded, resting her head back against the rock. "Could you… could you just keep talking to me?"

"Oh, so I put you to sleep?" he teased.

A smile played around the edges of her lips. "Of course." Her head slid to the side, and rested lightly on his shoulder. "That's a good thing," she whispered sleepily.

* * *

><p>Caspian blinked awake, taking a moment to register where he was. The cold stone soaked through his back. It was very early, and the sun was just rising, turning the water to a pale, brilliant sheet of glass. Streaks of mango-red cloud encased the horizon, melding perfectly with the powder blue sky. The sight made him catch his breath.<p>

Abigail was still asleep on his shoulder, curled up against the early morning chill. As he gazed down at her peaceful face, he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted. For the rest of his life, he wanted to wake up next to that face. _And it would never happen._

He pulled his gaze away, looking back up to the sky. He didn't want to wake her quite yet; no one else was up, and it wouldn't hurt to let her sleep a minute more. Besides, he didn't mind a bit if she sat next to him a little longer.

The stars had faded from the night sky several hours earlier, but yet there was still a small, bright spot… He squinted as the light seemed to grow brighter. A _blue _light. He smiled with relief, settling back. At long last, things seemed to be going the way they should be – for a little while, at least.

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><p><strong>Longer chapter! Yay, anyone? Seriously, if I get a fraction of the reviews I got last time, I'll be beyond happy. The only thing that would make me happier is perhaps a pineapple upside-down cake. Who knows, one of you <em>could<em> be awesome-er than the cake. The only way to find out is to review! **


	13. The Wrong Place

**All right: it's official. These guys are waaay better than cake: HumanAlien, muth, Squirrel, Lady Enigmatic, winter1990, Killerchaos, sarcasmwithasmile, Sidthe, Firestorm Nauralgos, SunnySweetRose, DragonStar35232, and chibimaker. Whoohoo, eveybody! Give yourself some cake, eat it, and think the whole time, _'Wow, I'm awesome"_!**

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><p>Nothing was happening. Again. The wind had left them early that morning, leaving the ship dormant. It was hot, and even the ship's idle creaking seemed burdensome. Listlessness hung laboriously about the air, a constant and painful reminder that they weren't moving.<p>

Abigail sat on the bed, tracing the thread on one of her embroidery projects. Lucy was with Edmund and Gael with her father. It was just as well; Abigail had some thinking to do, and she needed some solitude to do it.

She had woken up on Caspian's shoulder that one morning and had almost felt embarrassed…but not quite. She was much too content to feel any unease. It almost felt like things were right – as if the pieces had all nestled into place for a brief second, like snowflakes settling on one's lashes just before they melt away. Maybe that _was _the way it all way supposed to be… _Stop right there. Don't even think that way – you have to leave at some point, remember? _For once, her nagger had no impact on her thoughts. Her mind danced from corner to corner, blissfully ignoring the cobwebs of seriousness. _I just may be in love. _

The ship gave a startled jolt, bemoaning the sudden movement with heavy, lingering heaves. Abigail lurched over with a muffled shriek, instinctively thrusting her hand out to keep her balance. She missed. She overshot the side of the bed and slid off backwards, flailing and dragging blankets as she went.

"_Ow_," she grumbled to herself as she landed, rubbing her hip. Limping, curious, and slightly disoriented, she walked out and up to the deck.

"Did something hit us?" she asked, poking her head out of the hatch. She wasn't sure anyone had heard her; everyone was suddenly bustling about, talking and taking orders. No one seemed worried, though, so she wasn't either. Actually, the air seemed to hold a newfound jubilance, a hearty change from what it had been moments earlier.

"Abigail!" Lucy called from across the deck. She scurried over to where Abigail was climbing the rest of the way up. "We didn't hit anything – it's Eustace! He's pulling us!"

_We _are _moving again…_ she thought with realization. The picture she was seeing in her head of Eustace pulling the ship was a rather funny one. "Well, we'll thank him when he lands. That's a brilliant idea," she said with a small grin, trying to work the sincerity into her voice that she really felt. While she truly was grateful that they were moving along, she was also very preoccupied, and she found that her voice reflected that. "Where's Caspian?" She tried to keep her face placidly inquisitive as she realized what she had just asked. _Oops. Smart question. _

"He and Drinian just went below – you must've just missed them." _Well, maybe she hasn't picked up on it. Yet… _

Lucy was already excitedly filling Abigail in on some recent happening, but Abigail didn't notice until Lucy was almost done with her spiel.

"Um… so what did you think?" Abigail tried, hoping that might be an appropriate response.

Lucy gave a slight sigh and crossed her arms. "No, in case you were wondering, that didn't make sense with what I just said. That was a decent try, though."

Abigail smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." _Am I really that transparent?_

Lucy raised a questioning brow and asked directly, "Why are you so distracted?" When Abigail started to deter her, she cut back in. "And, yes, I've noticed."

Abigail shifted a little, rearranging her hands in nervous habit. "No, I… it's nothing," she said hastily, giving her head a mild shake. "There's a lot going on these days. It's all distracting to those of us unfamiliar with Narnia." She grinned lightly. That was true, anyway.

Lucy didn't seem convinced. "Yes…"she said slowly, as if she were waiting for Abigail to elaborate. 

Abigail smiled sweetly, inwardly running through all possible scenarios where Lucy somehow had witnessed everything. "Well, then, I suppose I'll go back to our quarters. Let me know if anything happens?" She didn't wait for an answer, but started to turn around, blinking away her inexplicable nervousness.

"You're not fooling me, Abigail. I expect to have a talk with you tonight." Lucy's tone was teasing, but her words were sincere. As Abigail stepped into the dimness, she desperately hoped Lucy would forget all about it before she saw her again. She was not ready to talk about any of what she was feeling… it was difficult even think about it.

* * *

><p>Caspian stared out the small, round window at the water shimmering with heat from the mid-day sun. He was fuming.<p>

Edmund had just breezed out the door, spouting off about how Caspian wasn't thinking clearly, how he was just trying to help. _Help. I'm sure. Edmund has no business there. _And he had told him so.

"You don't know what you're saying," he had said slowly, though he might as well have been shouting.

"I most certainly do – and you know I'm right!" Edmund's voice had risen in volume as well as pitch as he furthered the argument. "Abigail is going to leave, just as we are! I am quite sure you have things you'll need to think about without _her _muddling your –" Caspian hadn't let him finish.

"Do you even hear what you're saying?" he exploded. He had had to take a second to rein his voice back in. "Don't talk about her like that, and you –"

"Don't you see? You defend _her, _you think of _her_ – have you thought about what's going to happen to _you _when this is all over?

"I know one thing that's over." Caspian pointed him towards the door. "This conversation. Out." He didn't even know how they had gotten on this topic, but he was finished with it.

"Caspian, you're not listening –"

"I. Said. Out."

Now he rested his head on his forearm. Yet again, he had been arguing senselessly. What happened to apologizing? _Edmund happened. He just doesn't know when to… _

He slapped a hand on the wall. When was he going to let go? _Aslan help me._

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><p>Abigail let her fingers skip playfully along the wood as she wandered back to the room. She had taken her time, letting her feet get used to the ship's movement again. The ship had settled back into its usual sway, though perhaps a little stronger and erratic due to Eustace. Her lighter-than-air mood was resurfacing again, and she was all too happy to let it take over.<p>

Someone suddenly rounded the corner, thudding shoulders with Abigail and sending her sprawling into the wall.

"Hey!" She couldn't help the quick outburst. Once she straightened, she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I…just…" The someone began to storm off without a reply. _Oh, I know who that is. _Edmund. Suddenly, she couldn't quite take it and roll over. "What is wrong with you?" Her hands flew to her hips in sudden audacity.

He stopped. "What?" He sounded as if he hadn't expected her to say anything, or even noticed she was there.

Abigail sighed through closed lips, loosening her pursed brow and letting her head roll back momentarily. "Never mind." _I just need to get it out, that's all. _

He was now storming _towards _her, and she took a step back unconsciously at the intimidating sound of his rapid, beating footfalls. "What? What do you think is wrong?" He stopped just short or her, crossing his arms. _If he's trying to pick a fight, it's working. _Abigail could feel her spine start to stiffen at his rude barrage, though she was perhaps slightly taken aback by his impulsive confrontation. 

"Well, I don't know – how about the fact that you can't seem to stand me? What have I done to antagonize you?" She was defensive now. If they were arguing, well, fine. She was getting it off her chest. That sunny disposition was long gone.

Edmund was obviously not in the mood. "For one thing," he seethed quietly, motioning the way he had come. "A very good king is losing his wits, and it's your fault."

_"_Wh – _What?_" she stuttered, stunned at the blunt accusation. Of all the things he might have said, that was one she hadn't been expecting. With an incredulous shake of her head, she took one more step backwards. "I have no idea what you're even talking about –"

"You know what? I think you do."

"You…you think I'm doing something – anything – _on purpose_? I – I don't even know what _you think _I'm doing!" she sputtered, trying to backpedal her way out. _You know what he means. You've thought about it yourself. Wait… you're supposed to be on my side! How am I supposed to prove him wrong when I can't think straight?_

"I think you're both forgetting something – You are going to leave. You're leaving him, you're leaving Narnia." Abigail was incensed, and her eyes burned.

"You have no…" She started, but she couldn't finish for the shaking in her voice. She took a deep breath, but couldn't find the words to fling at him. Everything sounded weak and inescapably pointless in her head. "I…" The syllable came out weak, dangerously low, discordant. Her hands dropped, fidgeting, to her sides, and she fled.

* * *

><p>She slammed the door behind her and flung herself on the bed, barely registering that she was alone; she didn't know what she would have done if Gael or Lucy had been in there.<p>

She sat with her back against the wall and her head braced into her knees, stiff and unmoving, her fingernails digging into her palms. _How could he say such things? Why? Why – why did I argue? I could've walked away! I most definitely didn't need to hear that. He's wrong anyway. Oh, why…_

As she regained a little of her composure, she supposed she might be overreacting. Then again, perhaps it was only a matter of time before things crashed down the way they had. It was all too good to be true, anyway. What little she may have felt she had had with Caspian just couldn't be. Really, it felt silly to even think of it now. If it had taken Edmund's spitefulness to show her that, well…then that's what it took.

Footsteps came down the hall, echoing with Lucy's voice. Abigail quickly looped her legs around the far side of the bed and walked stiff-necked to the adjoining room; she was sure she looked a mess, what with her red-rimmed eyes and anger-shaken features, and she just didn't want to have to explain it to Lucy. Though if her tense voice was anything to go by, Lucy might already know.

Just as she carefully clicked the latch into place behind her, Lucy burst into the main room, calling Abigail's name. When there was no answer, Lucy whirled, facing the doorway. "Well," she fumed. "She's not here."

Edmund mumbled something.

"I don't care! After what happened, she deserves an apology."

"Listen, Lucy, I know you mean well, but perhaps it's better to just…" He trailed off, probably as a result of the look Lucy must have on her face.

"It's not me 'meaning well', it's me _caring. _Something you might try one of these days." Abigail had never heard Lucy's tone so rigid, and she was actually surprised that she was talking that way to her brother, of all people. _Everyone must _really_ be on edge,_ she thought. _How did she even find out…?_

"Look, I'm sorry –"

"Don't tell me 'sorry'. You had no business butting into her personal affairs. Even if you don't care for her, I know Caspian is your friend, and he wouldn't want this either."

Edmund's tone was quiet. "I am sorry. I… I didn't mean to say those things. I had just come from arguing with…" He stopped and let out a big breath of air. "I never intended to hurt anyone."

"Well, you did." Lucy still sounded mad. Abigail slumped against the door, feeling sick. _I'm the cause of all this. This is my fault. _

"Apologizing is all I can do. Sorry if that's not good enough." He started to leave the room, but Lucy stopped him.

"You say you didn't mean to say those things – but you still thought them. You're still thinking them now!"

"I can't just change what I think," he said, sounding a little indignant. "What I see is what's there. I'll apologize for saying everything in a 'hurtful way', but I won't apologize for thinking." He gave a little laugh. "She doesn't even belong here." Lucy starting to say something furiously, but he continued as is she had been silent, his tone becoming almost wistful for a brief moment. "It used to be just us, do you remember? The Four. Now there's Eustace and… _Abigail_. Eustace has now been some help – though it took him being transformed into a different _species _to do so. But her? What has she done?" At the way he said her name, Abigail wanted to choke.

"How can you say that?" Lucy whispered. He just shook his head and stalked out the door without another word. Lucy sat on the bed, murmuring under her breath.

Abigail slid to the floor, hugging her chest tight. _It's all because of me… Where's Aslan now?_

* * *

><p>Abigail woke up hearing anxious voices in the next room. She sat up, disoriented. <em>Where am I? <em>Then she remembered; she was still in the small room, cramped up against the door. _I must have fallen asleep. _

"No, I haven't seen her in hours." Lucy's worried voice floated under the door. "Well," she hurried on, "I haven't looked everywhere, but usually she's right here – I thought she might…be with you." _Who's she talking to? _She never found out – Lucy said a quick word of farewell, and then shut the door to the hall; whoever was looking for her must have been out there.

Though there were apparently people missing her, Abigail, guiltily, didn't want to get up. She methodically traced a raspy corner of leather on her boots, her mind sleepily absent from what her fingers were doing. She didn't want to talk to anyone about anything… in fact, staying right here until Aslan took pity and sent her home sounded great.

Immediately, she felt inwardly chastised. _No, you don't want to go home. It's not much better there than it is here, now is it? Really, you are ungrateful – _

**_Be still. _**

Abigail blinked, her hands stopping their jittery habit slowly until they were slack by her side. The room was silent, but she knew she hadn't thought up the strong, peaceful voice.

**_I am with you. _**

Her earlier thoughts came back in a flash. _Where is He now? _

**_I am with you._**

"Aslan," she whispered. Slowly, tranquility poured like warm oil into her limbs and mind. She quieted, and the world melted away, leaving her in peace with a Presence that had always been there. His voice didn't return, but she knew He was still with her. There were not words, but… it was as if He was still speaking, still comforting, telling her to stand, and He would be beside her.

She wasn't sure how long it was until she felt she could stand; it might have been the blink of a eye, or it might have been several long, unhurried minutes. She took a deep breath, and left the room. "Lucy… I'm right here."

"There you are!" Abigail was surprised to have Lucy's arms wrap around her, though it felt good. "What were you doing all this time?"

"Nothing, I… I must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry if anybody missed me – I didn't mean to cause any alarm."

"It's all right; it's just good to know you're… wait," Lucy said slowly, stepping back. "Did you hear Edmund and me arguing?" Abigail's reddening face was all the answer she needed. "I am _so _sorry… I don't…" she faltered, sitting down on the bed with a soft _thump_.

"It's okay, Lucy," Abigail said quietly. "It's fine – I'mfine now. He and I; we'll talk. Besides, I… I think he may be right."

"Abigail, don't say that… I'm sure –" Abigail shook her head, tremulous but resolute.

"I've thought about it, Lucy. Don't worry about me." Lucy didn't say anything more, though she must have wanted to.

Finally, she dipped her head, rising. "All right. Do you mind if I tell the others that I found you? I really should, I mean…" she trailed off, shrugging.

"Of course not – I really didn't mean to worry anyone. Just…" Lucy stopped at the door and looked back expectantly. "I would like to be alone for a while." Lucy nodded, and closed the door behind her.

Even though she had told Lucy that her mind was made up, she didn't feel determined. Far from it. _Aslan, I have a ways to go. _

And she sat, trying to think of Aslan and wishing there was someone to tell her what to do.

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><p><strong>Now we get a little peek into what Edmund is really thinking - see, Edmund-people? I love him just as much as you do. ;)<strong>

**Now, to show and share that love (and generally bring joy to my world), please review! **


	14. Tell Me What to Think

**One word: Merlin. I am totally hooked. **

**All right - sorry, I had to get that out. ;) A big thank you to my crazy-awesome reviewers: ShadowNinja1011, Papercups, Lady Firewing, HumanAlien, Jadeyn Tess, SunnySweetRose, chibimaker, and Firestorm Nauralagos. Milemarker, everybody! Over 100 reviews! *tears up* Thanks, guys! :D**

**Sorry if there's some timeline funkiness here; really, this first bit would have fit better in the last chapter, but, alas, I didn't think of it then. :P Enjoy the ride!**

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><p><em>"I tried to hear from heaven, but I talked the whole time."<em>

** Addison Road** – What Do I know of Holy?

Late that night, Abigail sat alone in her room, her eyes staring sightlessly at the floor, her legs crossed with her hands thrown dully across her knees. She didn't move; her hands were uncharacteristically idle, her head at a constant, hanging set. She was just… sitting and thinking. About what, she wasn't sure. She didn't remember how long she had been there, motionless. Perhaps since Lucy had left earlier… then again, it seemed she had only sat deep breathing felt shallow, her unmoving body weightless. She had cried earlier, but not now. Now she did not move; there were no more tears to cry. Her mind was made up. _I know what I'm doing. _

_I just… I need to realize that._

_I know what I'm doing._

_I know… _

A knock. Her head jerked up quickly, as if pulled by a pitiless puppeteer. She opened her mouth to answer, but almost couldn't for the sudden dryness in her throat. They knocked again, jarring her to her senses. _Pull yourself together. _She attempted to sit up, and lined her voice up its normality.

"C – come in," she said, swiftly clearing her throat, conveying assuredness; or so she hoped. Perhaps whoever it was only needed something quick and would soon go away.

They stepped in, subdued, and shut the door behind them silently. "Abigail." Her name was called softly. She shut her eyes slowly, and strained to keep her jaw in place.

She then straightened her shoulders and breathed in slightly, holding her head in a new, false position. "Yes?" she answered, her voice clipped in effort to remain steady. This was not going to just simply go away. She almost wanted it to, if only so she didn't have to say what she knew she must.

Caspian walked closer, his hands clasped behind his back. "May I speak with you?"

She smiled tremulously. "You already are." _Silly thing to say. _

He was quiet for a moment, running his hand through his hair. "I…" he started, then blew an exasperated breath. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say." Abigail nodded, tucking an insistent hair behind her ear nervously. "I know Edmund quarreled with you, and I know what was said. I'm sorry," he said again, the words rushing out in tumultuous motion.

She bit down on her lip. Hard. "It's not your fault," she said almost inaudibly, her head downcast once more.

Caspian watched her eyes grow dark and her hands shrink within themselves. Without thinking, he took a few quick strides forward and took her hands in his own, crouching down until he was even with her. Her head lifted slightly, but her eyes were still floating around the floor; though she could not see him, he somehow knew when she was really _looking _at him. Now, she was not.

"Listen!" he said persistently, desperately trying to raise her gaze. "I know what he said, and I don't believe it. I don't _want _it to be true." He ducked his head in attempt to search her face. "I thought… perhaps you did too," he said quietly when she didn't reply. The instant he said the words, he almost wished he could take them back; not because he didn't mean it – oh, he did – but because he didn't know what her response would be. He liked to think he did… but he wanted to hear it. He needed to hear it from her.

_Yes. Tell him. You know you do, _part of her mind whispered urgently in her ear, twisting until it hurt. She wanted to nod, to wrap her arms around him, to tell him what she really wanted to say. But the other half pained her equally, reminded her that she had just told herself something – that Edmund _was _right, that she needed to say firm in what she had just decided. _I've decided…_

She shut her eyes one more, holding his hands tight for a beat.

Slowly, with great care and uncertainty, she slipped her hands back to her own lap.

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and then a resigned sigh. He nodded and stood. "I'll leave you now."

She was sure her heart would break, taking everything with it. Just as he reached the door, she called out, her voice echoing with the pain she would not hide. "I am so sorry… I can't." _I won't do this to myself…or you. _

He stopped, a painful silence spanning the distance. "I understand," he said, and shut the door quietly behind him.

She sat, stunned, his soft words running through her head and her heart in turn. She could not believe she had the strength to go through with it. _Why? Why does this have to be?_

The door suddenly bustled open, Lucy and Gael bringing with them a flurry of cheerful noise. Abigail jumped, blinking heavily, but made no effort to come alive. Her back rose in a shuddering breath, but her mind remained like water, unable to take hold of anything flowing through it. One by one, she wound her finger around the others, tracing the delicate lines that suddenly felt so empty.

Amidst the chatter, Abigail suddenly caught a phrase, a name that would have broken her out of any stupor. "Was that Caspian we just saw?" Lucy asked, giving a quick elbow to Gael.

Something snapped. Abigail choked, and her face dropped down to her hands to consume the tears that swelled out. Startled, Lucy hurried over, taking her hand and apologizing profusely, Gael timidly looking up from her position at her knee. Abigail doubled forward, clutching her waist with one arm and Lucy with the other, trying to talk; to say thank you; to say sorry; to say anything. All she could think of was Caspian's soft voice, his acquiescing and broken words mingling with her ragged sobs.

_What have I done?_

* * *

><p><strong>Several Days Later…<strong>

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><p>The mist gurgled beside the longboats. The Source was near, so near; its green, sallow light whispered across the waves, visible from even their great distance. The mist's strength grew with each moment, and it savored the feeling.<p>

It had broken through to the boy's mind and he had snapped, stirring up the wonderful thing that was strife. All there was to be done after that was to sit back and revel in the resulting brokenness. In a brief moment, it had had to leave the girl when the Lion had shown Himself, but as soon as her heart was unguarded and confidence seeped to the surface, that confidence had been easily turned in the wrong direction.

Yes, there had been hard times, times where it had faltered, times where the Lion had butted in, but now… now they were almost ready for taking. The Source would be most pleased. Yes indeed.

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><p>The longboats collided with the shore, but Abigail felt nothing. Not the jarring, not the helping hand that lifted her from the boat. She wasn't sure if she'd ever feel anything again, not after that coldness, that thin shell of resolute uncertainty, had enveloped her chest. Even the prospect of exploring the rather foreboding island – at night, no less – evoked no reaction of anything resembling fear. Even in her own head, these thoughts seemed cynical and melodramatic, but they kept coming back, waxing and waning with a whispering odium.<p>

"Abigail," Lucy whispered, "we're going." Abigail shook her head and followed. They had landed on Ramandu's island, and were now about to set forward. It was evening, and the air was dank and green. Insects whistled quirkily, and the occasional bird croaked hoarsely. Everything Abigail touched seemed to be covered in a wetness, a squelching, mossy coating that was tauntingly slippery. She tried to keep her hands at her sides, but the uneven ground made that almost impossible; she tripped several times, especially in her attempt at going up a set of crumbling stairs flanked by a pair leering gargoyles.

She might have been thinking about the condition of her surroundings were she not focusing on staying away from Caspian. Even from several people behind, she could here his voice floating back every once and a while, and she felt horrible, perhaps even physically sick. However, she couldn't slink back any further from the head of the group without getting lost. So she stumbled on, just trying to keep her mind away from the world. _Probably not the smart thing to do when this ground is so irregular… _She tripped over a root just as the thought flashed across her head.

_"Oof," _she huffed under her breath as she went down on one knee. She instinctively reached up for the nearest handhold, which happened to be someone's arm.

"I'm so sorry!" she apologized, righting herself hurriedly and wiping her hands on her thighs.

"It's all right, child." A deep, rather kindly voice said quietly. "Are you all right now?" His voice was very, very quiet, but she could hear every word, as if it were being spoken directly to her ears.

"Yes." She nodded, flushed. She thought she might recognize that voice… "Have we met before?" She blushed at how forward that sounded.

"Oh," he chuckled, "Not in person, I'm afraid. No matter. I know who you are."

"Oh… I'm sorry; I don't know your name," she said, smiling shyly as she picked her way around some littered stones.

"It doesn't matter. Most know me," he said, causing her brows to twitch in momentary confusion. "I must ask – why are you lingering back here alone?"

"I…" She wasn't sure how to answer that. "I'm not alone, I mean…" She gestured to the sailors ahead of her.

"No; no you're not," he said evenly, almost as if he had known her response and what to say to it. _It's working, whatever he's trying to say, _she thought.

"You once had a very bright smile. What has caused such solemnity in your face?" _He is so sweet… where do I know his voice from?_

"Well, no one is really smiling, not now –"

"I know." He sounded as though he really did. "But inside, they all still have hope. You seem to have lost yours."

"I haven't lost it," she said quickly. "I'm just… trying to decide what to hope for." He didn't answer, but was quiet for a beat. She noticed how hushed his footsteps were. She could hardly hear them, in fact.

"You and the King used to look very happy, you know." She blushed, tripping over her feet again. For some reason, she didn't feel offended that he had mentioned it.

"He can be happy without me. I know it," she said softly, more to herself than anyone else. She was about to work something out to say to him directly, but he was already replying to her hushed murmuring.

"Ah, that is what you have decided. Are you quite sure there is no other plan for you?"

She looked up, surprised. "Do… do you mean Aslan? Well… yes, I'm quite certain this is what He wants." Despite her tone, she had never been more uncertain.

"Certainty can be a dangerous thing."

"I… I am sure," she faltered, before realizing there was no longer anyone walking beside her, his peaceful presence gone. She frowned.

Curiosity overrode emotions, and Abigail picked up her pace until she was beside Lucy. "Lucy," she whispered, trying not to draw attention to herself.

"Oh, there you are. We thought you'd gotten lost," Lucy teased lightly, brushing aside a low hanging branch.

Abigail hastily shoved the branch out of her way, and wasted no words. "Who is that man in the back? He's older, has a deep voice, and seems very tall…" She trailed off, having no further description. "Well – he was walking beside me a moment ago. Do you know him?" she asked again.

"Abigail… there was no one walking beside you."

"What? No, he was just there –"

"I was watching, Abigail," Lucy insisted. "I was just… you know, keeping an eye on you. No one was there."

Abigail stopped in her tracks, causing Lucy to bump into her. "Sorry," she mumbled, falling back again before Lucy could speak further.

She was no longer sure about anything.

* * *

><p>They came upon a long, low table weighted down with sweet, exotic food. Unlit candles that looked as if they had never been used lined the center of table. Hungry as they were, the crew regarded the food suspiciously, skirting around the thick slab of carved stone with their hands hovering near their weapons.<p>

Everyone was startled at finding three sleeping lords, who had first appeared to be dead. Two swords had been found, and everyone was poking around – cautiously – for the third when a little piece of the sky seemed to fall. A bright pool of contained light drifted down, unpinned from the heavens. Every person took a step back as the whorl of simmering blue paused just above the ground. The air shimmered, and the star became a woman.

"Travelers of Narnia," she greeted them. "Welcome. I am Liliandil, your guide." Her voice was soft and ethereal. Though there was no sign of age upon her face, her voice carried the wisdom and age of one who had lived beyond time.

"You're a star," Lucy said in awe.

The star nodded with a vivid smile. "I am. I am the daughter of Ramandu." Then she asked, as if puzzled, "Are you not hungry?" Then, without waiting for an answer, she lifted her arms effortlessly, lighting the candles on the table. "The food is for you," she explained, smiling. "At Aslan's table, there is always enough for those who hunger." Some of the crew began to reach forward, clearly hungry and tired of just looking at the appetizing dishes. Others just stood back, wary of the woman's words, lest they be put under same enchantment as the three old men.

"Wait," Edmund said quickly, putting his hand up. "What happened to them?" He pointed towards the 'sleeping' lords, voicing many others' thoughts.

"They have never touched the food, if that's what you ask." She sighed lightly, opening her eyes and looking at each one of them in turn. "Seven years ago, they arrived on this island, their ship in tatters. They argued violently. One took up the Stone Knife, a thing that was not right for him to touch." She motioned towards a wicked-looking, ancient knife hidden amongst the weedy overgrowth. "Once he touched the hilt, all three fell into a deep sleep."

"Will they ever wake?" Lucy asked, concerned.

Liliandil smiled again, this time with sadder light. "When all is put right." She turned her head and gestured for those who wanted to follow her. "Come; there is little time."

* * *

><p>Abigail sat on one of the cold benches, not hungry. Caspian, Edmund and Lucy had gone to speak with the star, but she had decided to stay behind. She didn't know why, but she didn't like being around… Liliandil, she had said her name was. Something about her… it was as if she could see things that most people couldn't; things inside of you, the very things that you thought about yourself. She seemed so distant, so wise and divine, so <em>perfect<em>; Abigail felt as if she didn't dare stand beside her, or even too near her.

It as only a short time before Caspian, Lucy, Edmund, and Liliandil returned, all of them quiet. At the star's presence, most of the men stood respectfully. She nodded, and then turned back to speak with Caspian.

"My father wishes for you to spend the night on our shores; you all will need strength, and you will be safe here."

Caspian looked over to Drinian, who nodded in consent. He thanked the star, and she departed with a familiar glimmer of light.

* * *

><p>It was decided that they would camp on the beach near the ship, and set out for the ominousDarkIslandat first light. A small party went back to the ship to let the sailors who had stayed behind know what was going on, and to give them the option of rowing to the island to sleep there. Rhince was among them; he didn't wish for Gael to have to travel back and forth.<p>

It was said that sleeping on land would somehow give them all a better rest, but Abigail didn't know how anyone could _rest_. The biggest battle of their time was looming, hanging like a curtain of deathlike fog, ready to devour them in the morning – or that night, if they let fear invade. How could they all work so calmly, as if they weren't about to give up their lives tomorrow, as if their whole journey wasn't about to whirl around and attack them ruthlessly?

She was getting restless, just standing around while the crew prepared their sleeping place. She stood there with her arms wrapped around her elbows for as long as she could stand it, but then she had to move about. She waited until she heard someone near her, and then called out.

"Excuse me?" Her voice seemed out of place in the still, black air.

"Yes, miss?" A young sailor answered, pausing in his work.

"I'm going to walk around a little – will you let Lucy know?" She didn't know where Lucy was, and she couldn't quite bear the thought of wandering around to find her only to have to then find her way back to the edge of the camp again.

"Of course. You'll be back soon?"

"Yes, thank you." He nodded, busying himself again. She smiled at him before turning away and letting the smile drop from her face like a stone, a shaky breath betraying her previously calm countenance.

She stayed on the beach, walking until she could no long hear the sounds of her companions. Rustling jeered from the inner part of the island, and insects kept up their nightly hum. At first, she could barely hear the water lapping gently across the shore, but as she walked farther, she entered a cove where the waves became rough, soaring and crashing against rotted rock.

Satisfied that no one would hear, she dropped to her hands and knees and screamed.

Digging her fingers into the unyielding sand, she cried out until her throat burned. "_Why?_" Her constant plea, the question of her life, it all came out, and now she railed at the Maker of the heavens. "I've been patient, I've _trusted _You, and I still have no answers! You haven't given any!" She crumpled back so that her forearms planted in the sand. "I'm sick of it all – the questions, the hidden meanings to everything,…" Hot tears quivered her jaw before she clamped it tight. "The _crying._ How long is it all going to rain down before the 'Great Lion' comes to save me? Is there anything to save me now? Not just me – this world, these people, _Your _people! Are we all going to die tomorrow? Is that what everything has come to? One final battle before all hope fails, before life ends? That is _not _the way it's supposed to work!" She knew she wasn't making sense anymore, but she was too out of control to care. She needed to throw everything out, and let Him catch it if He wanted to. "They say You make yourself known to us in Your own ways. It's not working with me. I get the smallest glimpse of You, and then You disappear. If that's the way things are, I want no part in it," she spat, her words disappearing with the angry crash of the waves, carried harmlessly away when the terrible collision subsided. She sucked in a hiccupping breath, infuriated at the resulting silence. The waves resumed their rhythm, washing away the ringing of her own voice.

**_I already know you. Will you not know Me? _**

She blinked, snapping her head up. _I _refuse _to let some voice get in my head. That's not working this time. _

**_I know you. _**

_No, You don't! _She cried out only in her mind now, sharp denial spewing forth on its own.

**_You ask for answers. Have I not given them? Will you continue your blindness? _**

She stood, furious and trembling. She couldn't unloose her voice without letting the tears fall. If the tears fell, so would her resolve, her pursuit for answers would be torn down… wouldn't it?

"If You are truly there, if You truly care for me, please, _please…_" She sank to one side, unable to keep ridged any longer. "Please show me," she whispered once more.

* * *

><p>Caspian realized that he no longer saw Abigail anymore. She had been hovering near the corner of the camp, but now she was gone. He told himself that his sudden pang of worry at not seeing her was just instinct, nothing more. Yet, despite what they both had said, he couldn't quite let her go like that.<p>

"Lucy," he whispered, carful not to wake those who had already gone to sleep. "Do you know where Abigail is?"

"Well," she said softly while rolling out a blanket. "She was just over…" She trailed off as she looked up at where Abigail had been standing before, sounding slightly surprised when she didn't see her. "I don't know. Perhaps she's gone to sleep?" she questioned quietly as she dusted her palms off together.

A young faun looked up from nearby, looking slightly worried. "Oh – my King and Queen," he said hastily, "she said she was going for a walk. I meant to tell you straight away, but, well, we were all busy. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't feel the need to warn her against it. That's all right, isn't it?" he asked, apprehensive.

"Of course, Finius," Caspian said quickly. "Thank you." With a respectful nod, the faun resumed his task. "Oh – Finius?" He looked up. "How long ago was this?"

"Not too long, Sire."

"All right. Thank you," he said again before turning back to Lucy. "You don't mind if I go look for her? It's late and, safe or not, probably not wise to go wandering around alone."

Lucy smiled in the darkness. "Don't think I haven't noticed something that my brother has." She raised one eyebrow at his resulting silence. "Yes, you should go after her," she said with a smile, nodding her head behind him. He smiled with one corner of his mouth, both amused and relieved at her perceptiveness. Then he caught himself.

"I'll be back shortly."

He quickly found her starting place, and used the moonlight to follow the footprints that trailed like pearls in the blue-lighted sand. She appeared to be walking fairly quickly, and before he knew it he could no longer hear the muted noises of the camp. He was getting faintly worried that she had gotten lost and then he wouldn't be able to find her, but he told himself that was not possible; she was staying well away from both the water and the foliage, and she didn't seem to be faltering.

A thick scream sounded from far ahead.

He broke into a run.

Just as she was about to hit the cool, impassive sand, strong hands balanced her out, setting her gently on her side.

"Abigail, are you hurt?" At the sound of Caspian's anxious voice, she lost any steadfastness she might have had. She had her answer. She wrapped her arms around him tight, putting him off balance. He sank to his knees, and held her in return. "Hey, hey…" he said softly. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't answer. She just sobbed into his chest. _I love you. I love you, and that's all I know right now. _

Caspian just held her. It was what she needed, and he was going to give it to her. She quieted after a while, but didn't talk and still didn't seem willing to let go. Neither was he, for that matter. His knees were worn into the sand and were going to be sore, but that didn't even cross his mind. He just held her.

_"Love does not run; love does not hide; love does not keep locked inside."_

**Brandon Heath** – Love Never Fails

* * *

><p><strong>Yup, I think this chapter I messed with the plot the most. Oh well. *dusts off hands* My work here is done. Yours, however, is not. :) Oh yes - that means you need to review! I will be haunting your turkey until you do. <strong>

**Oh - I will not be updating next Friday; not only have my updates been creeping up on me and my procrastination, I, uh, might be out shopping that whole day. ;) So... happy early Thanksgiving! See you in two weeks.**


	15. To Whatever End

**I'm back! Thank you all for waiting so patiently. :) Your wait was not in vain: It was really good for me to have a break (that, and I got new shoes. Happiness all around). **

**To all you patient, loving reveiwers: HumanAlien, Aims5, Jadeyn Tess, Laquadragon, Lady Enigmatic, Lady Firewing, chibimaker, Firestorm Nauralagos, and SunnySweetRose. Thank you! :D **

* * *

><p>The next morning, everyone was edgy with uneasy anticipation. Liliandil did not return, but even in the bright light of day the star could be seen shining down on them, almost a wish of good fortune. The ship was soundlessly loaded, and all the crew who were on shore returned to the ship with few words, grimness starting to settle in around their shoulders.<p>

* * *

><p>They had barely left Ramandu's island, and Abigail was on deck, breathing the last scent of land. Her hands gripped the railing with intensity and she tried to keep her mind on all things good in this world.<p>

"Um… Abigail?" Edmund walked up beside her and leaned on the railing awkwardly, breaking what little concentration she may have held.

She stifled the urge to just walk away. _Just let him say what he will. What more damage can he do? _She nodded, acknowledging his presence, but not allowing him the satisfaction of an answer. She felt childish, and even irrational – but she would not let her emotions out, not here, not now, and not to him.

"I just wanted to apologize," he said, the words coming out in a clumsy rush.

She had to blink, having trouble focusing on what he just said. That wasn't what she had been expecting, to put it lightly. He hurried on, the words rough in his trying to get his meaning across. "I really didn't have the right to say anything, and I'm sorry. I was unfair," he broke off, finished but feeling he should say more.

She had to tighten her grip on the rail to keep from falling into a heap. He was apologizing? _Answer. Thank him. _She couldn't say a word, the pause lengthening into a harsh wait.

After another moment of silence, he sighed and began to walk away. He had said his piece, whether she wanted to accept it or not was her choice. He truly was sorry. He wasn't quite sure what had prompted the change (and the fact that it took imminent death for him to apologize made him feel beyond foolish), but now he was almost regretting saying anything. Perhaps there were better things to think about right now.

"Thank you," she called back suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. Her voice was thick, filled with meaning that flowed from the two words with more than anyone could have said in two days. He looked back, and she was looking right at him, or so it would seem. He nodded. They had an understanding.

She listened to his footsteps recede slowly, blending with the heavy whispers of the murky waves that lapped smoothly, uncaring, against the wood. She should have said more. She meant more; she really did. She was sorry too… she should have said the first word, but instead she let his words fester, and sat in defiance of what was just – to him – necessary counsel. She shook her head and gripped the wood again, letting the water meld with the rhythm of her mind once more.

Abigail didn't know what to do. Everyone was standing forebodingly, armor creaking, hands moving needlessly. It would not take long to reach theDarkIsland, but it was too long. The ship had never seemed to move so slowly. Every now and then, she could hear the leathern plunge of Eustace circling above, but even that great sound was muted by the cold cloak of clouds the hung around them.

_I can't take this anymore. _She stood suddenly, and swiftly made for the hatch. Perhaps the dimness below would calm her stomach and tattering nerves.

It didn't. It was still eerily quiet, as if no one dared make a sound, lest they bring down some unseen foe. The staccato of her footsteps seemed to rack the whole ship as she roamed at slow, determined pace. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she couldn't stand still.

She passed by her own room, but kept up her pace. Lucy would be in there, arming herself with her daggers, just one more reminder of what could be lost this coming hour.

She passed another door, but this time, she slowed considerably. It was Caspian's voice. He seemed to be talking to himself, a quiet, apprehensive whispering that barely made it to the hallway. She desperately wanted to stop, but at the same time couldn't bring herself to. _Someone else to lose, _her mind hissed with a sharp nudge forward. 

She slowed a little more, her boots suddenly feeling very heavy. He was still murmuring, though now it seemed he was talking to someone else. _Better to keep going. _

_Keep going._

_You know what will happen if you say anything. Don't stop._

**_Stop. _**

She did, blinking as she always did when she heard His voice. _What?_

In her abrupt halt, she kicked over a wooden something-or-other that had previously been leaned up against the wall. She sucked in her breath as she waited for it to fall, her hands tightening familiarly. It made a considerable and devastating clatter as it collided with the floor, and she flinched, her eyes creasing shut.

Caspian jumped as a scraping crash interrupted his musing. He was particularly on edge, and his concentration had been elsewhere. Cautiously, he peered out the door, hoping to see that only an ill-stacked crate had fallen over, but carefully expecting the worst.

Instead, Abigail stood there, looking guilty and ready to flee at the slightest sound. "Ah, it's you," he said, relieved, and leaned against the door frame for a moment.

Her eyes had the wide look of cornered prey, but she nodded, slowly trying to calm down. "Sorry," she mumbled softly. "I… it was an accident…"

"Of course," he said quickly, bending to pick up the small crate. When it was replaced on its rightful spot against the wall, he stopped to look closely as her, as she hadn't moved since he had glanced out the door.

In a way, she looked very much the frightened girl he had pulled out of the water; her jaw held the same tight set, and her arms were each wrapped protectively around the other. But in her pale eyes there was a deep understanding, a kind of sadness in knowing all that she did. She was becoming a part of this world, as did all who came to Narnia. A part of his world…

A part of him.

All the Kings and Queenshad left an impression in his heart, as they had to all the Narnians, but… she was different. Whether she knew of it or not – and he guessed that she didn't – she had made her way into the hearts of all the crew; her gentle voice and dexterous hands combined with her deepest desire to help and right all things wrong made it impossible _not _to like her, and even to respect her quiet, soft-spoken ways. Perhaps he was a bit biased, but he knew that, given the chance, the whole of Narnia could see her with the eyes of those who knew her well.

She still was unmoving, and held steady gaze, the heartrending look still masking her face. He wanted to change it, that look. All she had known since coming to Narnia was the pain and suffering brought on by darkness. He wanted to show her all that was good, thelandofNarniathat she had never beheld. He wanted her to stay.

Abigail bit her lip. She wanted to talk to him, tell him what she felt. She couldn't. She was wondering if she would ever be able to. It was all knotted up in her head, and she didn't know how to untangle it. She blurted out the only thing that summarized what she was thinking, and why she had tried to walk by unnoticed. "I didn't want this to be the way it ends," she choked. It didn't make any sense, and surely he wouldn't understand. She hardly understood it herself.

He took her shoulders, understanding all too well. "This is not an ending," he said hoarsely. "I promise you, we will come through this. All of us." His hands moved down her arms and took her hands, holding them tightly. "Both of us," he said softly.

She gave a small nod, willing it to be true. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against his chest, taking comfort in him, as she had so many times. He wrapped her in an embrace, familiar and sweet.

A single tear rolled down her face.

* * *

><p>Abigail sat just beneath the stairs, listening. Caspian was speaking to the crew; firm, fierce words of encouragement and honor; words of a king. Everyone gave a cry, a cheer to their victory and to the king who was leading them there.<p>

All she could think of was him. Not the enemy nor the battle they were to fight, not the fear that wavered around the edge of her mind, but him. She knew his voice, his hands… _the rugged scar on his left palm, the square-cornered ring he wore, the various nicks around his fingers…_ She found herself tracing her own hands. How cold and fragile they felt when set alone.

She never wanted to let go – not at this moment, not ever. She wanted him there, always. Whenever she was confused, alone, or even just happy, he was there, and that was exactly the way she wanted it. It would not be that way when she went back.

She buried her head in her hands. _I don't want to go back. I don't ever want to go back, and I don't know if I can. _

* * *

><p>A deep, black shroud covered the ship almost before they entered the heart of the island. Not just physically, but around the souls of the people themselves. Fear laced the heart of even the stoutest, their minds were shying away from images that only they could see. They were visions premeditated to enter their hearts, to take hold and pull them to their knees in cool defeat.<p>

Abigail stood beside Gael, who in turn was near her father. Rhince wanted Gael with him as long as possible, but made Abigail promise to take her below at the barest hint of confrontation.

Abigail shuddered. It felt as though the sun was disappearing as the fog encompassed them further. She almost wished something would challenge them and give her an excuse to hide below. _Coward. _

Biting her lip and trying to be brave, she reached down to put her hand on Gael's shoulder. She wasn't there. Abigail frowned. She hadn't moved away, had she? Rhince was right there, after all.

…or was he? She took a step to her left, ready to whisper Gael's name. Her hands passed only through air; thick, unforgiving air. Her touch webbed out, suddenly frantic in her movements. Still there was only ashy wood beneath her hands. Now, she openly called out, her voice ringing with rigid nervousness.

"Gael? Rhince, sir?" There was no answer, save the echo of her own voice. _Why will no one answer me? _ She tried Lucy's name, in vain hopes that she, at least, would return her calls.

There was only the ever-calm water colliding with the ship's hull.

The ship was still moving – how could no one be there? _What is going on? I can't be dreaming – I'm still wide awake!_ Her mind rambled on as she stumbled around the railing, still holding to the hope that someone, anyone, would still be there; that there was an explanation for the ridiculously frightening emptiness.

Suddenly, everything started to tilt. In heart-thumping instinct, she ran for the center, only to be dragged towards the railing by the sudden sharp slant of the deck. Her knees scraped wood.

"Abigail?" Gael's tentative voice drifted from her side.

Abigail blinked. Everything was as it should be. There was heavy, nervous breathing. Armor clapped against itself, and weapons shifted. The once tedious sounds were unexpectedly very comforting to the blood pounding in her ears.

"You were… are you – are you all right?" Gael gently prodded her arm, sounding worried.

Abigail could only nod. She took a deep breath through her nose, trying to convince herself that she was still there, still surrounded by friends. After and moment, she noticed that the air was eerily similar to that of her too-familiar old dream; she couldn't pin it down (as one never can with a dream), but somehow she knew. She just knew, and it scared her to death.

Feeling her mind slipping again, she quickly reached down and took Gael's hand. The girl grasped back just as tightly, perhaps similarly glad to have something real to hold onto.

Time was melding together as Abigail tried to pin her wits in reality. She almost didn't notice the voice that grated dimly through the air. At first she thought it was just her mind veering off on its own track again, but as it grew louder, she noticed that the others were reacting to it as well.

_"Keep…away!" _it cried faintly, though no one could understand it at first. Rhince hastily gave Abigail a push, and she immediately understood. She pulled Gael towards the hatch, prepared to take cover from whatever the new threat was.

She stopped, however, when she heard Caspian exclaim, "Lord Rhoop!" He motioned for the men to lower their weapons while hurrying to the railing. "We must bring him on board," he instructed rapidly, never taking his eyes off the crazed lord, who was raising a sword, threatening them wildly and warning them in warbled tones to come no closer.

Suddenly, Eustace swooped down in a rush of wings, catching Lord Rhoop almost delicately in his clawed hands. Rhoop was then dumped rather unceremoniously onto the deck, and was immediately surrounded.

He crouched, brandishing his sword and swinging his hands in a wide arc. "Off me, demons!" he roared, his voice gravelly with both terror and menace. Abigail understood him; how long he had been kept here, kept a pawn to his own dreams? She had only been there a few minutes, and she already felt like attacking something to keep her sanity.

Despite his tortured state, it took only a moment with Caspian to calm him. After collapsing to his knees at his king's feet, he then warned them in a hoarse voice that there was no way out. "We must leave, now – make haste, I beg of you!"

"We have the sword, Caspian," Edmund pointed out, edgy and ready to leave. Caspian nodded tensely, and quickly gave the orders.

"Wait!" Rhoop cried, his pallid hands trembling as he reached out in admonition. "Do not think! Do not even think! It will take your darkest nightmares and _become them_," he hissed, his voice breaking.

Everything was silent for a moment.

"Oh no." Edmund shut his eyes.

The mist, now more than just a sickly streak among their feet, latched onto whatever it could. Was it feeling – could it be – desperation? How they had gotten so far, it didn't know. All it knew was the burning desire to assault them, and it did so in the only way it had time to conceive. It turned his thoughts against them.

Abigail couldn't believe it. She wouldn't. But yes, there was a sucking, dripping sound rising behind her. She couldn't blame Edmund, not really; it could have been her own fears raining down upon them now. She was struck by how calm her thoughts were at that moment, how her sensed seemed lulled in the stretched moment of horror.

Then it all broke loose.

A guttural squeal bellowed from above. Lucy screamed. Rhince yelled his daughter's name, and Abigail thought she might have heard her own name called. She couldn't tell; her ears were ringing painfully, her instinct only thinking of Gael. All her muscles tightened as she dropped to her knees, pulling Gael with her just in time for something wet to swing wildly above their heads. Gael screamed, covering her head with her hands.

Suddenly, everyone was moving. Sailors running, Drinian bellowing, and weapons being drawn. Abigail felt hands close around her waist. "Go," Caspian's voice hissed in her ear as he half-pushed, half-pulled her and Gael towards the hatch.

She crawled to a haphazard stop as Caspian swung the hinges open, hurrying Gael through first, Abigail following. She stood still for a moment, her head tipped upwards.

Not for long. A sickening crunch sounded. He whispered something indiscernible, and let the hatch close with a crash. Abigail had no time to dwell on it; she quickly took Gael's hand and moved as fast as she could through the corridors. Every few steps, they were thrown up against the wall, and a gargling scream could be heard reverberating through the walls. Wood splintered and cracked, and barrels and crates that had once been neatly stacked were now smattered on the floor, rolling and clumsily bumping their feet. As they rushed, stumbling, past the food storage area – that was all Abigail knew it as – metal utensils clapped urgently, as if to hurry them along, before they fell to the floor with a reverberating ring.

Abigail almost missed their room, and Gael had to give her hand a forceful tug to stop their flight. Even as she hastily twisted the knob, the door swung back with a fury, nearly crushing her hand. She let go as if it were burning, and pushed Gael inside before it could swing a second time. Mentally, she rushed through a map of the room, franticly trying to remember where a safe corner might be. _Bookshelves…falling books – chairs – candle stand – _What there no non-hazardous place in there? She stopped a made herself breathe in and calm down. _To the left, behind the bed. Room for both of us. _Her thoughts came in quick bursts, giving her only the information she needed.

The door slammed behind her, knocking her back to the present with an alarming definiteness. "There – go!" She could hardly hear herself, and almost didn't expect Gael to, but she seemed to understand, and leapt into motion. One of the chairs knelt to the ground, giving up the fight to stay upright, and Gael shrieked, jumping to the side while still trying to run. Only Abigail's hand tightening around her arm kept her on her feet. Abigail wasn't even sure how she was able to catch her; she was barely keeping herself steady as it was.

Gael had almost reached the far side of the bed when there was an excruciatingly slow, heavy creak above their heads. Abigail didn't wait to find out what it was – she was pretty sure she already knew. "Gael, move!" she cried, lunging forward. Gael looked up, but not fast enough. Abigail caught her and they both fell heavily to the floor as an entire shelf of thick-backed books crumbled to their left.

Abigail was breathing heavily, and Gael was crying. Keeping her arms tightly around the little girl, Abigail crawled backwards until her back connected with the wall. There she drew Gael in tight, trying to shield her from whatever came.

Abigail didn't know how long it was they had crouched there when Lucy bolted in and rushed straight to the mantle. Abigail almost couldn't find her voice to call out, but she somehow managed Lucy's name.

"There you two are! I'm so glad you're safe," Lucy cried breathlessly, fumbling awkwardly with clunky straps and buckles as she sidestepped towards the door, ducking debris as she went.

"Wait!" Abigail called out. She wanted to know so much. _What's going on? Who… who's still all right? _But Lucy appeared to be in a hurry – with good reason – and it would take time to reassure Abigail's fears. "Be safe," she whispered, just loudly enough to be heard. Lucy nodded, and ran through the battered door with haste as another violent shudder wracked the ship. Abigail ducked her head to Gael's once more.

The ship groaned in protest, and Abigail heard the sound of splintering wood and a gruesome, gargling shriek as the vessel lashed to a shuddering halt. All was silent for a moment. The tiniest whisper of relief started the sigh its way into her heart. _Perhaps… this is over. We've won. _

All calming thoughts disappeared. The beast rose from the right, hissing and dripping. Once again, the ship buckled under a vehement blow.

Abigail cringed to one side, trying to shield Gael. The girl hadn't made a sound, but was still wide awake and horrifyingly aware of their situation. Abigail ran a shaky hand over Gael's hair, drawing her even closer as silent tears slipped down her face, bringing with them the relief of despair. _I can't do it. We're all going to die. I can't – we can't._

**_I can. _**

She stopped breathing.

Then her chest heaved heavily, and she felt limp. She let her eyelids flutter closed. _I can't play mind games. Please, leave me my sanity…_

**_Trust, Abigail. _**

The tears ran openly down her face, and she tipped her head up, her mouth shut in silent pleading. _I can't. I can't do it. _

**_I will. Reach out, and I will. _**

She lowered her face now, feeling painfully open and vulnerable, yet there were warm, waiting arms around her, if only she would lean into them. _I cannot give what You ask. _And yet, even as she insisted it to herself, she knew she could. She wanted to.

All worldly sounds disappeared, leaving Abigail with the Lion, the One. She wanted to get up and run to Him, if only He would have her. _If only…_

A whisper, a sigh… her heart was quiet, but yet was filled with such chaos.

Finally, finally, slowly and quickly, she let go. Her heart unloosed, and her own selfish mind fled. _I'm Yours. Please, take me, to whatever end. May Your will be mine. My heart… is Yours. _

Edmund shook off the demons in the shroud of mist, and, with Rhindon glowing and glorious, thrust the weapon into the very head of the beast.

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><p><strong>And so we draw near to the end... hang in there! Now, if you don't have anything nice to say, please say it.<strong>

** Re-read that sentance. Yes, I want to know if there's something I'm doing that is driving you nuts - it is never too late in the story to fix it! Not that I mind the compliments... ;) **


	16. Do You Wonder

**Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed! Lady Enigmatic, Laquadragon, GirlInThePaintedMask, SunnySweetRose, Lady Firewing, chibimaker, and Firestorm Nauralagos - you guy's words mean so much to me. :')**

**Read on!**

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><p>Abigail blinked slowly, cautiously, not daring to hope, but huddling in the deep sense of serenity that kept the fear away. All sounds had seemed to cease, and even the slow tick of time had crept to a standstill. Gael seemed to feel it too, and she lifted her head from Abigail's shoulder slightly.<p>

"Are you hurt?" Abigail whispered, daring to speak in the moment of quiet. She was prepared for the ship to rock violently again, and for the screech of the serpent to claw at her ears.

Gael shook her head hard, but then ducked back to the safety of Abigail's arms.

Satisfied, Abigail closed her eyes again, leaning her head back against the cool wood behind her. She could hardly expect that this was finally over (she'd made that mistake a couple times before), but she was thankful for the brief respite. Perhaps now she could hold out a little longer, just one minute over the next.

No sooner had the sound of cheering reached her ears then several people clattered down the stairs, their weary voices rolling together excitedly.

"Gael, Gael!" Rhince called breathlessly, dropping his head in the room to survey the damage and search hurriedly for his daughter. Gael's head lifted slowly, as if she couldn't quite believe it was really her father calling her name. After a split second, she met his familiar eyes and then scrambled up, Abigail right behind her. Tripping over her feet and rubble, she raced to her father's arms. He scooped her up, holding her tight, murmuring word of love and relief. He looked up, and whispered "Thank you," his words muffled by Gael's hair and almost lost in the trample of Lucy's feet running in the door. She caught Abigail around the waist, smiling and crying.

Abigail smiled and sank to the bed in a numb rush of emotions; relief, for the battle that was over, happiness for the people around her, and an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. Her breathing was still far from steady, but for the first time in what felt like days, the air she was drawing in felt clean and bright, no longer sickly with dread.

Lucy sat beside her on the bed, her hands clasped tight in Abigail's. "You're all right, you're all right!" she cried in relief, rocking back and forth a little.

Abigail just nodded fiercely and returned her tight embrace, too tired and happy to answer. She felt a scratch tingling on her brow, but that small injury hardly mattered. All that mattered was the people, the people so dear to her, who have survived unscathed. Caspian briefly flitted across her mind, a picture ever so lightly laced with worry. She could have laughed at herself. _Of all the people to think of. _But even as her own thoughts ridiculed it, she knew she wouldn't feel fully satisfied until she knew for herself that he was standing and unharmed. _Besides, I'm sure he's all right. He's just…**him. **_The little assumption came out of nowhere, but she trustingly believed it to be true, even without having to think about it.

After a minute or two of talking, laughing with relief, and a little crying, the girls, hand in shaky hand, followed Rhince, who was carrying Gael, up the stairs. The devastation in the halls seemed different now; it was just as broken, and it would take a while to repair it to the way it was before, but now you could start to imagine that it would be clean again. _If only everything was going to be as good, _Abigail thought with a sudden pang. Now that she had a second to breath, it was starting to dawn on her that it was over. _It's really over… _What had Lucy said? _When it's all over, and we've finished what we were sent here for, Aslan sends us home. _For the first time in a while, she thought about having to actually go home… or, back toEngland that is. She was starting to wonder if she would ever callEngland 'home' again.

She swallowed back the bitter thoughts, trying to resurrect the sweet taste that had been on her lips just a second ago. _We've won, _she reminded herself, only to correct that thought a moment later. _No… **He's **won. _After all, none of them would be there if it wasn't for the Lion. She dug inside and clung to that little snatch of peace, if only for a moment.

If she had thought the air felt better down below, when her head cleared the open air, it felt a hundred times better. The death fog was creeping away as if being pushed back with strong, unseen hands. The air of fear had been broken, and there were the tiniest pokes of sun tickling their way through the clouds. Voices were still hushed, but it seemed to be more out of relief and tiredness than fear.

The devastation above deck was much worse than that of the hold; everything seemed to be at least cracked, if not shattered to pieces. Abigail's fingers brushed sodden splinters wherever she placed her hands, and though she tried to keep her movements soft, her hands shook slightly, and she managed to stick herself a few times.

Before she hardly even had time to take it all in, a shout sounded from the other side of the ship. She jumped instinctively, but this voice was surprised and joyous, causing people to gravitate towards the side of the boat. The missing Islanders had been spotted. The boats of bewildered people drifted towards them, a surprise, but a happy one at that.  
>Off to Abigail's right, she heard Gael gasp her mother's name, echoed by Rhince. A splash sounded, and, though startled, Abigail knew exactly what was going on, and she felt a tiny glow of happiness grow in her heart for them. Gael and Rhince swam towards the woman called Helaine by her husband. Abigail felt the familiar prick of tears behind her eyes even as she heard their joyous shouts across the water, but they seemed different now; happy, content, if tears could be called as such. A family, reunited… <em>A family…<em>She shook her head to dismiss such thoughts. Gladness would be the prevailing emotion now if she had to nail it down with a stake. Which didn't seem too happy. _Oh, stop it. _Well, it was good to see her nagger survived the ordeal.

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><p>Caspian surveyed the damage, taking in every splinter, every broken splint of metal with a slow, practiced eye. He also looked at each of his men, proud of every one there. The ship was more crowded now, after they had brought on the refugees from theIslands, but hardly uncomfortable. Rhince knew many of them, and, when he weren't beside his wife and daughter, he walked among his former neighbors, touching and conversing with old friends that had been presumed to be dead.<p>

Abigail also stood with Gael and Helaine, the latter of which she was already becoming friendly with. Caspian himself had only spoken a moment with the woman, as he had all the refugees, but he too had immediately felt at ease with her straightforward and pleasant conversation. It was no wonder Abigail felt at ease around her.

However, even Abigail and her quite, naturally withdrawn nature seemed to be coming out of her opening outwards a little; she took the time to talk to the tattered, exhausted people, offering what she could, even if it only be a friendly ear. Sometimes he wondered if she was really meant to be _here_, working alongside these people, the people of his world.

Again, there was a dark twinge deep in the place where he knew he cared. Every time he allowed himself to think _It's over, _he found himself repeating the words over and over in his head until they hissed a message of foreboding. Of losing her… And then he made himself repeat the words again in a lighter note, and then it all started over.

"Sire?" Drinian asked, one brow raised, indicating he had asked his question at least a couple times before.

Caspian shook his head imperceptibly, and ran a hand over his face. "Yes – I'm sorry," he answered determinedly, preparing himself to live out the rest of the day, and only hoping that the next minute wasn't the ending he could see on the horizon.

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><p>Abigail sat out of the way on one of buckets that had been fortunate enough to have survived – or, at least, as far out of the way as she could get with this many people on board. <em>And I thought there was constant motion before we doubled in size. <em>Many of the former captives were up on deck, basking in the sun that they hadn't felt for so long. The crew was even getting a start on repairing the damages the ship had sustained. They would need more supplies and plenty of time to put the _Dawn Treader _back to the way it used to be, but they would at least get a start now.

Her head started to nod off to one side, and she had to catch herself as her shoulders slumped to the left. She gave a brief shake of her head; she was exhausted, both physically and mentally. However, a good many of the rescues were sleeping below, and she wouldn't crowd in on them just because she had heavy eyes. Whatever they had been through, she was sure nothing she had done compared. After all, she had just hidden below for the majority of time – where did she come off being so tired, anyway? She almost felt that she should get up and see if there was anything else she could do for these people, but her body wouldn't move. She wasn't sure how long it had been since the battle, but it felt like days. She had done what she could, for both the crew and the Islanders, and now all she wanted to do was curl up in a corner somewhere. The sparking nerves she had been running on had worn off several hours ago, and she had finally had to stop moving all together little while ago. The cut on her head had also started to throb. _Perhaps if I just rest here a moment…_

"Tired, are we?" She jumped a little at Caspian's voice beside her. She hadn't even noticed him. The little glow inside that she was just now getting used to flared up, but even that wasn't enough to wake her up entirely. She only gave a soft nod and slight smile in answer to his question, keeping her hands in her lap. "Why don't you get some rest?" he asked, putting one hand on her shoulder.

She tipped her head up in attempt to keep her wavering attention focused on him. "I… there's people down there, and they really need the rest. I'll manage." Even her excuses came out discordant. She tried to gather her thoughts up to speak intelligently, she really did. Her eyelids just seemed too heavy, as if pulled by some deadweight in her head.

"Come; I'm sure we can find a spare bed for you." He pulled her shoulder lightly, giving her the prod to stand up. "You have certainly worked hard enough," he commented as he motioned her ahead of him and towards the hatch.

She blinked at this. "No I haven't. I haven't done anything." She gave a slow shake of her head, trying to accentuate her words as they descended into the hold.

He sounded slightly amused. "You most certainly have. I'm quite sure there are more than a few people on board who could attest to you having comforted them, or given them help when they were too timid to ask."

She might have laughed, after she thought the phrase over. _Timid? That's more like me. _"I just… I know how they feel." She dropped her voice to a whisper now, as they were nearing the sleeping refugees.

"Not many could feel the way you do. Do you ever wonder if –" Here he broke off, as if thinking better of something he was going to say.

"What?" she asked, her curiosity rising a little. "Wonder what?"

"Nothing." His voice was even quieter than hers now. She sighed inwardly. She was too tired to inquire further.

"Here," he said softly, taking her hand to steer her around a pile of shattered wood at their feet. He didn't let go.

Se let the touch of his hand guide her, and commenced to letting herself get lost in his hands. She only vaguely knew where they were, anyway; she almost never ventured to this part of the ship. "Isn't this…" she trailed off. He hadn't heard her, and she couldn't quite form a word ending, anyway. It didn't really matter. She trusted him.

She became aware of hammocks on either side of her. Soft – and loud – snoring floated up, as did the sound of people turning over in their sleep. _We're in the crew's sleeping quarters, _she thought had only been here once, and that had been with Lucy.

"Here's a spot," he whispered, stopping them both.

She frowned slightly, tugging at her hand. "Are… are you sure it's okay for me to…" she trailed off.

"Positive. You'll be safe here, and it's quiet." He sounded so sure, she let herself be reassured. She immediately reached out her hand to feel for the lip of the hammock. She found it, and realized with a slight sinking feeling it was more than just a few feet off the ground. Caspian didn't have to ask. With gentle hands, he lifted her by the waist and set her lightly in the middle of the swaying canvas.

Even just sitting down on the comfortable surface, Abigail felt she could sleep immediately if she just closed her eyes. She breathed him a thank you, and sank down on one side. He smiled and pulled a blanket out from under her feet.

"Here. You might want this," he said, setting it around her shoulders with great care. Her shoulders rose in one heavy breath, as if she were releasing the cares of the whole day. She managed a small smile in her eyes in attempt to thank him again. It was only after she could no longer hear his breathing – a sound she could somehow tell from all the other people surrounding them – that she realized he was walking away. Her eyes drifted open once more at his retreating footsteps, and then softly closed, contented.

She sighed contentedly and rolled over, sleep just moments away.

She recognized something.

She blinked rather irritably, disrupted from her peaceful thoughts. She nestled deeper into the fold of the hammock and pulled the blanked up to her shoulders again, trying to ignore the niggling feeling that she knew something.

The blanket.

She lifted her head slightly as she realized where she knew the touch of the blanket from. She ran the texture through her mind a few times just to be sure, but she already was the same blanket off the bed she had been sharing with Lucy for several months. No… the last time she had checked, that blanket had still been on her bed. In fact, she had offered it to a few bedraggled, tired women just a few hours earlier. _Then where did this one come from? _

Something else registered in her mind; something from her very first confusing day aboard the _Dawn Treader_. Caspian's room. _He gave his room up to us. Lucy and me. _Now, she noticed the thick firs that were piled around her head, and the familiar scent that wrapped around her senses, as comforting as the blanket was around her shoulders. How she hadn't noticed these things earlier, she didn't know. She didn't even remember feeling that tired.

_This is where he's been sleeping. And he offered it up to me. _She wasn't sure where the soft, touched feeling had come from amidst her tiredness, but now she wasn't sure if she could even fall asleep. Taking a deep breath, she rolled over and tucked her knees up (at much as the contours of the hammock allowed), suddenly feeling very small. And yet… so very important, if only to one person. That one person who made her feel special in a way only someone like him could; the person she felt she could owed something special to.

She was feeling teary again as she snuggled the blanket closer to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to think of something else, if only to be able to fall asleep. The quiet creaking of the ship that was floating in now docile waters. The quiet breathing of those sleeping around her. She was a little surprised at how much she noticed the sounds of each and every person. While she was sure she could sleep through it all, it was just interesting to hear so many different people around her, all categorically silent, but all so distinct. It was not quite the same thing as the room she shared with Lucy and Gael; they almost felt like family – that was not quite the right label, but she couldn't think of a better way to describe it right now. She faintly recalled wondering, as she grew older, what it would be like to sleep next to someone; someone you really loved. Someone you wanted to spend your life with.

She blinked again, realizing the tears that rolled down her face silently. That someone had a voice now… A voice she knew so very well.

She now, above all, was not tired.

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><p><strong>So, tell me - what is our ending? Will it be beautiful?<br>**

BarlowGirl - _Beautiful Ending_

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><p><strong>And we near ever closer to the end... whatever that end may be. I hope you'll be there! I assure you, we are getting very close now. Reviews help keep my mind on track, if that means anything to you. ;) There's a Christmas cookie in the deal for you... :) Seriously, please review and take one. My scale hates me as it is, and I still have a good two weeks of treat-making to go.<strong>


	17. Blessed Assurance

**Christmas treats for: Firestorm Nauralagos, chibimaker, SunnySweetRose, Jadeyn Tess, Lady Firewing, Lady Enigmatic, Cerulean89, Laquadragon, and a very kind anonymous reviewer. BTW - last time, I made a blatant reference to something Abigail was _seeing_, and I had to go back and fix it. *facePALM* I plead late-at-night-editing. Or insanity. Really, it could be either one. Please, feel free to tell me when I do something stupid. :P**

**On a happier note: new chapter! Enjoy that cookie while you read. :)**

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><p>Abigail tried her best to focus only on the soft slap and swish of the paddles. On Eustace's subdued voice speaking. On anything else than where they were going. Nervousness gnawed at her belly, a painful bite that had appeared the second the water had been reported white on the horizon. Aslan's country. All the times she had wondered if it was the end of the wonderful, beautiful, terrible story, she knew this was really it. There was nowhere else to go. They had reached the end of the world, and now it was time to return to their own.<p>

All those from her world were on board the small boat, as well as Caspian and Reepicheep, and each one had a reason for being there. The four from England were to return there (or so was the thought), and Reepicheep… actually, Abigail wasn't quite sure why the brave little mouse was there; by the time this had all been worked out, her mind was long gone. Suffice to say that she knew it was very personal for him. Caspian was, or course, the one to row the boat back to the ship. _A very morbid picture, _she thought suddenly, picturing the boat empty of all but one, the one having to return alone. She shook her head. She knew there were other reasons.

Now she blinked hard and twisted her thoughts to a stand-still; it was becoming abruptly very painful to think. Of all her goodbyes, the one with Caspian had been the most upsetting, but perhaps one of the happiest memories she would ever have. _I will never forget, _she thought again to herself, both a comfort and an aching reminder. She closed her eyes.

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><p>She sat at the table in her room, her hands clutching a piece of embroidery to her chest. The stitches were all ripped out, every last one, the snapped bits of thread dangling loosely from the now forlorn-looking fabric. She had gotten one nail tucked under a loop, and when she had pulled, the thread loosened until it finally snapped. Then she couldn't stop. She wasn't angry; she wasn't frustrated. She didn't know why… perhaps that was it. She didn't know why about <em>anything<em> anymore_. _She felt childish, distraught, and, above all, lonely. Aslan, for all the comfort He provided, felt very far away.

At that thought, she leaned forward until her head touched the table, and wept, her shoulders shaking. She hadn't cried this hard since… _that second night_. How far away that seemed now… she could almost wish for that time. She would give anything for the journey to be starting over again; she would even experience the sadness and horror in a heartbeat if it meant she could stay here that much longer.

Now her crying was reduced to mere damp eyes and red features. _I hate crying, _she thought, scrubbing at her eyes fiercely with the rumpled cloth in her hands. _Which is silly, considering I seem to spend most of my time in tears. _

Too late, she noticed the knock at her door. When the partially cracked door started to creak open with caution, she jumped to her feet, sniffing and trying to hide her hands behind her back. This was not the time to be falling apart. Her friends were at least trying to be strong; so would she.

"Abigail, we're ready…" Caspian trailed off. _The boat must be ready to leave. Oh, why couldn't they have sent Lucy, or even Gael? _She only needed to think about _that_ a second before realized that she was being irrational. Of course, Lucy was probably saying one last goodbye to all her people, and Gael was with her parents. It wasn't that she didn't want to see Caspian one more time, she just… wasn't sure if she could take it. She admitted it; she didn't want to say goodbye. She had said the last time she had thought it was the end. Only now, there was certainly no chance of getting out of what loomed before them.

"All right," she said lightly, and raised her chin. "I… I'm coming." She tried to keep her voice strong, but found it faltered in the middle. She tried again. "I'm…" She couldn't finish; the words suddenly felt sickly across her tongue, giving her stomach a weak feeling. She swayed forward, and grabbed for the chair back to keep herself upright. Her fingers tightened around the wood painfully, cutting splinters into her white knuckles, but there was no pain; anything to distract herself was welcome. She thought she might have been smiling, her featured felt so out of place. She swiped the ruined fabric nervously around her face, trying to keep those useless tears where they were.

"Are you… what is that?" Caspian started to voice his natural concern for her sorry-looking state, but trailed off when he saw the tattered, once-embroidered piece of cloth.

Her face froze, and she actually contemplated hiding it behind her back. How had she forgotten that was in her hand? And why didn't see want him to see it? Her mouth parted in confusion and worry. In three strides, his hand closed gently around her wrist, and his other hand was gently shaking the cloth away from her painfully tight grip. His eyes took in everything, and he seemed to know what was going on, even when she didn't understand it herself. "Come on, now," he murmured, taking her hands and letting the now filthy cloth fall to the floor. "It's all right."

At those words, words he had spoken so many times, she burst into tears again. She shakily rocked forward, caught gratefully by strong arms. She cried words into his chest, but none of them were understandable; only attempts at spilling out thoughts and feelings that clawed at her heart.

She was only aware that all her tears were gone when all she could hear was her own hiccupping breathing slowing to the beat of his heart. She took in one more shuddery breath, and quickly stood back, hurriedly swiping at her eyes with the insides of her wrists. She sniffed repeatedly, rapidly trying to compose herself; it had suddenly dawned on her that everyone was waiting for them, and she was just prolonging everything. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Let's go."

She didn't let him finish his start to protesting. "No – we – I just… I'm slowing the whole lot down. For everyone." She stood with one hand at her hip and the other at her forehead. Her voice sounded funny; she had to pause to sniff and blink her eyes to the ceiling to dry them. She had learned that a long time ago. Who knew she would need to use it so much?

She waited for him to move toward the door, but he still stood before her. "What are you waiting for?" she croaked, her voice giving way momentarily, confirming the fear she would not be able to hold herself together if she stood there stationary any longer.

He just shook his head and asked slowly, "Why didn't you say anything to me?" Why didn't she say goodbye? Why hadn't she said something about how she was feeling before she broke down? _Why didn't I? _

"I don't know," she said quickly, running a hand down the side of her face self-consciously. "Do you remember when I said I didn't…I didn't want to say goodbye?" She smiled with the edges of her lips, the real emotion quavering somewhere in between. She didn't wait for affirmation, because she knew he did. "I don't want to. I like to remain in…denial. And I want to pretend that this isn't –" She stopped, having to press her hand to her mouth again.

"And I would wish I could tell you this isn't the end," he said sadly, looking down at his hands in a brief moment of quietness, understanding everything she said. "I do wish that," he repeated, seemingly talking to himself now.

She nodded mutely, covering the bridge of her nose with her hands and breathing in. There was nothing else to say. She rubbed her face and stepped back. "They're waiting," she said quietly, those two words digging in deep, cutting the silence even thicker.

He nodded, and stepped aside to let her walk in front of him. She moved automatically, going very slowly, and going towards the door as if it were the mouth of a poisonous serpent.

In the second that she paused in the doorway, Caspian caught her hands and quickly turned her to face him, and lifted her chin in a fierce kiss. He then pulled her in tight, whispering against her hair, "Aslan has plans for all good, and I know that. I just want…" He stopped, struggling to find the right words.

"Don't forget."

Abigail knew she never would.

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><p>She had tried her best to clean up her tear-stained look, but found it didn't matter once she was on deck. Many were teary; saying farewell to the friends that had become so dear. No one was sure what would happen next, but everyone somehow knew that the four other-worlders would not be coming back, and they were preparing themselves for life without them.<p>

Abigail smiled through her tears and said goodbye to all of them, even if that meant just smiling in all directions. She gave Gael a wild hug, smiled at her parents, and then joined the others by the boat, lifting her chin in farewell to the ship that she had lived on for these past months.

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><p>And now she sat in that boat, still and quiet. There was the lingering sadness that clung to her heart, and a slight tinge of fear coloring her thoughts. Fear of going back, fear of never seeing the Narnians again, and even a kind of fear of Aslan. She wasn't quite sure regarding that last one; perhaps it was from the disrespect she knew she had shown Him and the thought that they might see Him face to face. She knew she had felt His forgiveness and love before, but would He be so willing to extend it to her now? Would He be angry with her? She didn't even know why He might be, but that thought almost became unbearable. She tucked her chin in her hands, and shut her eyes on her thoughts.<p>

She couldn't have known about the concerned looks her companions gave her.

As they came nearer to the shores, the whiteness of the water became lilies, soft, dusty grey flowers that moved soundlessly out of the way of the oars. Before she could even realize it, Abigail began to feel vaguely calmer. Still scared and sad, but those things became bearable, soothed with a sense that no matter what came, she would somehow be able to adjust to it. _How _was a question she just didn't have the energy for anymore.

All talk ceased as they neared to shore, each one overcome by the awe rising in their hearts. Abigail became aware of the sound of water rushing, somehow sounding as if it were slipping upwards, into the sky. The air was clean and flawless, smelling of sweet water and the lilies that were clinging to the sides of the boat with gentle grace.

The boat slid to a yielding stop, grinding sand into a pattern. Lucy gave Abigail her hand and helped her jump from the boat. She landed in a few inches of water, a sensation that might have felt unpleasant – given that wet boots were never enjoyable – but all she felt was clean and wonderfully cold, the kind of cold that wraps around the skin as you step outside before dawn. The empty boat was hauled a few more feet onto the sand to keep it in place.

All six of them walked in a line, suddenly unsure of where to go. They moved towards the constantly moving wall of water, all of them moving slowly in accordance to each other, taking in their brilliant surroundings; all except for Reepicheep, who bounded forward a few strides and then waited for them to catch up.

Abigail suddenly couldn't breathe. Or perhaps it was the air suddenly becoming smooth and thin, and she could only breathe faster. Either way, she stopped, as did the others.

"Aslan."

Abigail almost couldn't turn, but then it seemed she couldn't bear not to. She could hear great paws pressing in on the sand, walking beside them, and then turning to face all of them.

Six knees fell to the ground, heads bowed.

"Rise, children." His voice was very quiet, and yet it filled the earth with its sound. Abigail knew His voice. As she slowly pushed up from the ground, she knew she already knew Him. What had she ever been afraid of?

He spoke to them, told them that they had done well. Abigail took in each and every one of His words, and let them fill her heart with a feeling that she had not felt in a very long time. In fact, she didn't think there was a feeling like it in the world, except standing before Him, hearing Him speak. She didn't feel proud or worthy, but she felt accepted by Him. And that was enough.

"You have come far," Aslan continued, looking at each in turn. "And now your journey is at its end." Abigail bowed her head. "You have made many choices, and now one more stands before you." Abigail lifted her head slightly, momentarily confused. Then she became acutely aware of His country before her, ready to welcome those who would enter. She didn't know what stopped her from lifting her head and crying _yes_, but she knew in her heart that her time, somehow, was not over. She belonged in one world or another, but not His; not yet.

Beside her Caspian looked down, seeming to have already made his choice a long time ago. Abigail briefly wondered if he had thought about this moment many times before, and what the different outcomes had been in his head.

But Reepicheep coughed lightly from the other side. Quietly, with his feather in his paws and his face looking unusually contrite, he approached the Lion.

"Your Eminence," he said, bowing low. "Ever since I can remember, I have longed to see Your country. I have many adventures in this world," he added quickly, but then returned to a serious tone. "But _nothing _has dampened that longing. I know I am far from worthy, but, with Your approval, I would lay down all I had to enter." He bowed once more.

Aslan smiled and looked down upon the mouse. "My country was made for noble hearts such as yours." He then stepped back, revealing a small, mouse-sized boat waiting on the edge of the uprising water.

Reepicheep looked back at the remaining five, sad, but ready to bid them farewell. He shared a special bond with both Lucy and Eustace, and while Abigail had never known the mouse well, she felt their sadness, and it was combined with her own. She smiled at him one last time before he scampered to the boat, his paws slapping as the sand grew slick with a thin film of water. He drew his sword, thrust it into the sand, and pushed off, rising over the wave until he could no longer be seen.

Aslan turned once more and looked at His children deliberately.

"Lucy," Edmund said softly before his sister could say anything. "I think it's time we should be going home." Lucy looked at him with unhappiness in her eyes, looking as if she would protest, but then she quieted and understood, though she didn't want to. "I know you love it here," he continued quickly, "And so do I. It's just… I love home, too. I love our family. They need us, Lu."

Abigail began to feel pained again, with the talk of home and family. _It really is time to go home. _

Lucy looked to Aslan. "This is our last time here, isn't it?" she asked tearfully, meaning herself and her brother.

Aslan nodded slowly. "Yes, my child. Your time here is done, just as Peter and Susan."

Lucy nodded, blinking fast. "You will visit us in our world?"

Now the Lion smiled. "I will be with you always. In your world, I have another name. You must learn to know me by it."

This gave Abigail hope. Though she would feel alone in her world, Aslan would be there, giving her the strength she needed. That was some comfort.

"Will we meet again?" Lucy asked, hoping lacing her voice tightly.

Aslan dipped his head. "Yes, dear one." With that, he turned to the water and roared, a sound that seemed to split everything in its path. A pinpoint of water spun forcefully until it had opened up into a gaping chasm, holding its shape against the water. Abigail felt the spray on her face, somehow and effectively drying any remains of tears, though that didn't last long. She had to say goodbye.

She and Lucy shared a tight hug; no words – there were none. They would miss each other, and that was that All their shared times, their smiles and tears; none of it would ever be forgotten.

Even saying farewell to Eustace and Edmund brought her pain she didn't know she would feel. Even with someone she had thought she might hate at one time, she had made friends with both. They had shared this world, and now they would not see each other again.

Abigail stood back as Caspian said goodbye to the friends he had known for many years, and Eustace who was a friend as well. Was she leaving now as well? She didn't think so. Aslan had said nothing about or to her – yet. They had come from different places; perhaps He would not be sending them back together. That made sense.

Once more, Lucy wrapped her arms around the Lion. Then she turned and followed her brother and cousin, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth. She paused one more time, looking back at Aslan. "Is Abigail not coming?" she asked, some of her old curiosity rising in her voice. Abigail waited rather nervously for His answer. She suddenly didn't feel ready to leave. Not yet.

"No, Lucy. Abigail will return home by another path." Abigail exhaled slowly, relieved and frightened at the same time. Lucy nodded and took a deep breath, finally joining Edmund and Eustace. They walked a few more steps and then stopped for a split second. It was quiet, and then the waves moved, closing in on themselves. Abigail caught her breath as the sweet spray tickled her face. The swirl turned backwards until it was a solid wall of glittering water once more.

Just as suddenly, it was quiet again.

With her head tipped down, she turned, hesitantly, towards the Lion. _It's my time now. _

"Abigail. Walk with me," Aslan beckoned her with a nod. Abigail stepped forward, and then stopped, briefly turning her head towards Caspian. Was she not going to be able to say goodbye? "We will return," Aslan reassured her, addressing both of them. Carefully, she walked up beside Him, and rested her hand on His fur in a moment of courage. It felt warm and sunlit, and twitched slightly under her hand.

She didn't know where they were going – it was a straight line of sand from what she could tell – and she didn't know for how long, but she didn't care. Just the little while in His presence made her feel as though it would all be all right, at least for now.

He stopped, standing beside her, looking out at the horizon, His eyes never staying in one place, unless they rested on her face. "Do you understand now?" He asked softly.

She knew what He asked. All the times she had begged for answers, all the times she was confused… she thought she understood now. If she had come here to learn only one thing, it would be to know that she was loved.

"I do." She bowed her head. "I cannot thank you enough for… for what You have done." And she meant many things; what He had done for her before, the sacrifice she knew He had made, the love He chose to give. "I know I don't deserve it," she said, even quieter than before.

He chuckled deep in his throat. "You need not feel you are unworthy of anything. I will keep you with me, always." Abigail felt one tear leak past her efforts. If those were not the most comforting words she had ever heard… She dropped to her knees, and let her head and arms rest on His mane, crying openly. He dropped His head down to her shoulder, giving comfort as only He could.

After her tears had dried and her mind cleared, she sat back, wiping her eyes and feeling as if nothing more could possibly make her cry.

"And now," Aslan said, straightening, standing tall and beautiful, "It is time. Your home awaits you, Abigail."

Abigail raised her head. Now, now she fully understood.

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><p><strong>You can't find your place in a world that wasn't meant for you.<strong>

Paul Alan - _To Bring You Back_

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><p><strong>You guys should be proud of me; my head start ran out a few chapters ago, and I had to write this today. <em>Today. <em>I've been writing, re-watching movie scenes, and editing since this morning. :P Hey - has anyone else noticed that Aslan's shadow doesn't touch His paws when He first appears? It bothers me. Anywho...  
>Review, tell me what you think (and if I've made any idiotic mistakes). ;) I probably won't be updating next week, as that's the day before Christmas Eve. Enjoy your holiday, and try to be patient... and... not, ya know, throw things at me for doing this to you again... <strong>


	18. My Father's World

**Well... *cough* This is awkward. I'm so sorry about missing my deadline last night; I had some things going on and I just didn't get it done. Please refrain from throwing things at me. ;)**

**I would like to thank my wonderful, patient, observant reviewers: Erulassë, FireheartNinja, Lady Enigmatic, Laquadragon, Cerulean89, Jadeyn Tess, Firestorm Nauralagos, chibimaker, Calyn, Lady Firewing, and SunnySweetRose. More than that, I would like to thank anyone who has ever reviewed, favorited, or put this story on their alerts. You guys make me unbelievably happy. I've learned quite a bit even in this short time, and I owe it all to you. I may not have replied personally to everyone (I'm terrible at that), but know that each and every gesture made a big difference to me. *hugs everyone within one mile radius* Ooo - and I just realized: about this time of year was the first time I saw the movie in theaters and this plot bunny was born. Happy Birthday to me. :) **

**One... Last... Chapter... Nearly there, my friends! **

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><p>Caspian watched Aslan lead Abigail away, her hand tentatively resting on His mane as they steadily walked along the white sand. He held on to the words Aslan had spoken – they would be back. He could have panicked at the sight of her walking away. Gone with no goodbye... But she would be back; He had said so Himself, and if there was only one thing Caspian could trust, it would be words spoken from the Lion's mouth.<p>

However, a second later he peeked up once more, looking for the security that his human nature demanded; something that, ashamedly, not even his faith could suppress. Just a glimpse, and then he would be content to wait.

They were gone. There was no golden dot on the horizon; they were not merely vanishing into the distance. They _had _vanished. Frowning, he took one quick step forwards, looking for anyplace on the open beach that they could have gone. The sound of the towering wave beside him slowed and ceased, and all became deafeningly quiet as he felt dread capsizing in his mind. A million thoughts imploded with a screech, tearing at the quiet.

**_Trust Me. _**

Of course. He immediately felt chastised, though no words had been spoken in anger. Aslan said they would return, and so they would. Caspian did not like to doubt or second-guess, and felt angry with himself when he did. But now he just felt tired, as if he had spent himself on a brief second of worry and now had nothing else (or perhaps not the desire) to fuel himself with.

To distract his wandering thoughts, he watched the ever-climbing water, catching only blue-stained glimpses of what lay beyond. That was all right; he was not meant to see it. He studied the signet ring on his hand, suddenly unable to think of what it meant and why he had it. The boat rocked slightly from its spot on the sand, but he was sure it would not move. They had pulled it up tightly out of reach of the water. He and his friends. He would miss them; more than he could put into words. As he looked back, he supposed he had only known them for a small point in time, but that was more than many Narnians could say – thousands of years had passed, generations had come and gone, and there had been no sign of the Kings and Queens. And Caspian, tenth of that name, had been the one to see them, to stand beside them as Narnia was restored to all that is should have been. He was blessed to have known each and every one of them, and he would choose to remember that in the times when he found himself saddened by the loss.

That was what he would learn to remember about Abigail. He would remember her smile, and the short time he had been able to smile with her. He would remember her eyes, her cold, soft, blue eyes that could see everything the way it really was. He would always remember, specially the things he could never put into words.

Above all, he would think on the fact that this was the way Aslan planned it to be. Perhaps that would be his only comfort, but there was a comfort in it, and that was a promise that nothing in this world could take away.

He shut his eyes. It hurt to think straight. It hurt to think at all, and thinking was the one thing he couldn't stop. There was no pain here at the doorstep of Aslan's country; at least, no biting edge to it. There was still a dull ache in his heart that he was sure would never go away. It might dim in time, but he would always miss his friends, whom he had come to think of as his family. What he would feel if he had to say goodbye to Abigail, he didn't know. Pain, maybe. The kind of pain that was not to be defined, the pain that only touches those who have felt its sting before.

_He only does good. Whatever His plan, it is for the bettering of the world over. _He took to repeating that in his head, drawing what reassurance he could from those words. Aslan's words.

He let his eyes drift open, blinking and letting out a sigh that melded with the wind around his breath. How long had it been? How much longer must he wait?

_**Wait. **_

Yes, yes he would wait. He would wait… exercise what little patience felt he could hold onto… and try not to think…

One could get a very serious headache going on that way.

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><p>Abigail walked beside Him again, retracing their steps. Her hand was entwined in His fur, and this time she didn't feel as if it didn't belong. He loved her. <em>Loved <em>her. He even knew her thoughts, the hatred and pain and sorrow and… everything. Yet still He loved her, and said He would walk beside her for the rest of her days. He always had.

And that was a very encouraging thought.

"Aslan?" She asked suddenly, His name wonderfully familiar on her lips. She didn't have to wait for an answer, as she knew she already had His full attention. "Why did You not tell Lucy and the others where I was to go? Wouldn't she want to know?"

Aslan shook his great head. "No, Abigail. Your path is yours to walk."

Abigail looked down, but she understood what He meant. _He knows best, after all. _Perhaps she would be able to see them again, one day.

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><p>Caspian blinked, making sure he wasn't conjuring up an illusion.<p>

No, it was really Aslan, with Abigail walking beside Him. He didn't know where they could have even gone, but it didn't matter now. Even from this distance, she looked quiet, calm, though there were still traces of tears clinging to her eyes.

At least she looked happy. One thing he would want out of all of this was just for her happiness. He would not be so selfish as to think she could only be happy with him. For some reason, that thought saddened him.

No, she would surely find joy in life wherever she was. _Wherever… _He didn't realize how tight his features were until he tried to mold them into a smile at their approach.

The Lion's eyes took in everything as He approached, and they reflected Caspian's own mind, so much that everything seemed clearer to him as he somehow held Aslan's gaze.

It was time.

Abigail stood still by Aslan's side after they stopped in front of Caspian, feeling tears rub against her eyes again. She was going to cry, or laugh, or collapse to her knees, none of which seemed very sane. She didn't feel sane. No, she felt better than that – the harsh reality that she had once thought ruled the world was obsolete.

Her hands quivered by her sides, and she found herself wishing Aslan would just say the words.

Those beautiful words.

"Abigail will be returning home," Aslan said with a smile at His children.

Abigail bowed her head to keep her expression in place. She feared that if she let anything break through, she would never be able to stop.

"…aboard the _Dawn Treader_."

"Do you…" Caspian looked back and forth, his mouth dry and suddenly very hard to operate. "Back to Narnia?" He watched Abigail's face, and realized she was smiling. _Smiling. _

Suddenly, he was too. He would not have dared believe it if the Lion had not been looking at them both with such joy in His great eyes.

Abigail only had to take two steps forward to be at Caspian's side, and she didn't hesitate. Everything moved in an elation of slow-motion. She clenched her eyes shut and laughed as he spun her around in reckless abandon. After a moment of weeping merrily – to happy to be embarrassed about anything at all – she turned back, remembering Aslan, who stood watching them with nothing less than a smile.

"I can never thank You for what You have done," she said, wiping her eyes quickly, ridding herself of tears of laughter and released stress. "And…" She was suddenly very aware of the lump in her throat.

Caspian stepped forward, and finished what she couldn't. He dropped to one knee, and Abigail did the same. A gesture of respect, thanks, and love.

A purr rumbled out of Aslan's throat, and He laughed with them. "I give all that you will ever need, should you choose to accept it."

Abigail raised her head with awe, and drank in the words she had so longed to hear. Finally, a feeling of completion and peace surrounded her, a feeling so fully perfect that she wasn't sure how she would ever need anything else.

Suddenly, as she blinked, she could see Him.

His fur.

His face.

His eyes. Oh, His eyes – they were every color of green imaginable, though she supposed they could have been golden. But it was not so much the color, as the eyes themselves. Everything He had seen, everything He was…

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the vision disappeared. All she had seen was the Lion, but… that was all she needed. He was the world, and nothing was without Him.

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><p><strong>This is home – now I'm finally where I belong.<strong>

Switchfoot – _This is Home_

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><p>Darkness would never again be something she experienced.<p>

Both she and Caspian knew what they wanted. He proposed to her before they even returned to the ship. They were married soon after returning to Narnia. Abigail went on to be one of the greatest queens Narnia had ever known. She made Narnia her country, and the people, _her _people. The height of the rule of King Caspian and Queen Abigail became an admired time of peace and richness.

She was not without fear, doubt, or frustration, especially during the first years; she wanted to be accepted, and she wanted to live up to all the expectations that she knew the people would have. She needn't have worried about the first part. There was no dispute to her imminent queenship – she was a chosen daughter of Aslan, sent from the world of the Kings and Queens of old. As for what was expected, well, that came naturally. She might not have known it, but she filled the role perfectly; perfectly suited to King and Country. More than all that, she loved Aslan with all her heart and had His blessing in all that she did. She saw everything not with the vision the world had given her, but through His eyes.

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><p><strong>Unto thee I lift up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens. <strong>

Psalm 123:1 (KJV)

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><p><strong>Well... The End. *sniff*<strong>

**On my profile, there is an additional epilogue in the form of several illustrations (as this one was awfully short). Enjoy! **

**Here's the last time I plead with you to review: if you've been here all along, you've joined in the middle, or have just finished reading the whole thing - one more review, for Aslan! Even if you've just been reading along on your own time and in the background, how about a review in... uh, review? ;) **

**One last time, THANK YOU ALL. And Happy New Year! Hope you all have a good one. :D**

**(On a different note: no, there will be no sequel. Sorry to anybody who wanted one. :( I know, I want one too, but I just don't have the desire or the knowledge to continue past this point. It wrapped up pretty nicely on its own. ;) I do know what I will be doing next, and that's a Lord of the Rings piece. For anyone who's interested, just poke that little Author's Alert button. See you in a few months!) **


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